


If It Makes You Feel Better

by jeffwik (Portioncontrol)



Category: Community (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Portioncontrol/pseuds/jeffwik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Nothing But Blue Skies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ingredients of Thanksgiving Act 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For serious you want to read "They All Just Fade Away" before reading this.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/4832513/chapters/11068043

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to bethanyactually and amrywiol for beta-reading. This would be worse than it is, without their input.

INGREDIENTS OF THANKSGIVING

* * *

 

SOCIAL ANXIETY I

 

"Okay." Annie stared resolutely ahead. Through the windshield of Jeff's car the world looked cold and gray and wet, perhaps because it was late November in Colorado. It cold have been worse; the alternative was cold and gray and icy. She shivered slightly in the chill air and adjusted her cardigan.

"Okay?" Jeff, noticing her shivering, turned up the heat. "I'm willing to circle the block a few more times, if you want." 

"You said you'd pick her up at two, and it's already ten after." Annie shook her head. "We can do this. I can do this. You've met your mother before."

"Many times," Jeff replied. He gripped the steering wheel and gave her a sidelong glance. He didn't like seeing her anxious. "She's a sweet little old lady. And she has a glass jaw, so if it comes to it…"

Annie smiled at that, but sobered quickly. "I know it's not anything to get worried about. I don't have a very good track record meeting my boyfriends' parents. The last time I was in still in high school. I faked a British accent the whole evening and I claimed I was an exchange student from Barcelona."

Jeff cocked his head. "Barcelona, England?"

Annie sighed and nodded.

"This was when you were deep in the Adderall addiction, I'm guessing?" Jeff leaned over and grasped her shoulder. "That was a long time ago. You've grown up a lot since then. Which is good, because if you were still the same age I would be a criminal."

She didn't smile at that one, instead just sighing again. "So when was the last time you introduced a girl to your mother?"

"Uh…" That was a tricky one; Jeff had to think about it. The last relationship he'd had was with Britta, and it hadn't even really been a relationship. Definitely meeting parents had never been on the table. Before that was Michelle, bracketed by a few one-night stands, and before that… He had to go back a long way. "Also high school, actually," he said. "My junior prom date had a car and I didn't, so she picked me up. If I hadn't introduced them it would have been extremely awkward."

"So in _twenty years_ I'm the first girl you've ever brought home to Mother?" Annie asked, aghast. 

"Not twenty years!" Jeff did some mental arithmetic.  "Eighteen."  He tried not to think about how Annie had been a toddler at the time. "I did spend a big chunk of time lying to her about being in school, you know. I wasn't about to introduce her to some girl who might let slip that I wasn't majoring in Anthropology, I was selling DVD players and digital cameras."

Annie threw her head back against the headrest dramatically. "I can't live up to twenty years of build-up!" she declared.  "She's going to hate me."

"Oh, believe me, she adores you already," Jeff assured her. He hadn't planned on mentioning this, but… "I've told her all about you. And she was just thrilled when she heard we'd gotten together. She's a fan, I promise."

Annie looked at him quizzically. "When…?"

He sighed. Jeff had hoped to avoid telling her about this. Not for any particular reason, he just didn't like to dwell on it. "She was in the hospital, and I had to talk to her about something, so I started telling her about you. About Greendale, and the study group. You came up a lot." Jeff cleared his throat. "I mean, yours was the only name she knew…"

"She knew my name?" Annie asked immediately.

Inwardly Jeff winced. "Yeah," he admitted. "I made the mistake of mentioning you by name the first time I talked to her after the time I told her about how I'd lied about college and law school, and had to go to Greendale…"

"When was this?" She looked at him with what he hoped was a slight smile in her eyes. 

"It was… well, it was a while back," he said. "I remember it was the day a ghost stole one of your pens." It had been in actual fact a semi-feral monkey, of course, but they hadn't known that at the time. "That night Mom called. Which was nothing new, she'd been leaving messages for months, but I'd been dodging her for so long... since Christmas the year before. That was when I'd finally come clean about college and Greendale. Anyway, that night she left this really sad voicemail that guilted me into calling her back. I ended up telling her all about you and the pen and how we all went kind of crazy. She thought it was a funny story."

"I'll bet."

"But ever since then, every time I talked to her, which hasn't been often… she always asks how you're doing. And I didn't want to have to keep her updated about Abed and Shirley and Troy and Pierce and Britta, so I told her as little as possible about them." He shrugged. "She's always, how's Annie, what classes do you have with Annie this semester..."

"Uh huh." From her tone it was clear she didn't completely accept his assertion that he'd told Doreen about her purely as a strategic move. She was smiling, though, arms folded as she looked at him.

"Okay, twist my arm, maybe she got the impression you were especially important to me, somehow," Jeff said. "But, you know, it was just because yours was the only name she knew…"

"…for some reason…"

"Yes, yes," he said testily, "I'm extremely into you and have been for a long time, we've established that. So trust me when I say she's very positively disposed towards you. I actually thought about taking you to visit her in the hospital, in fact, but there would have been so many follow-up questions after she actually met you that I decided against it. The shock of meeting you might have messed up her system."

Annie opened her mouth to respond, and then froze, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at him.

"What?" he asked, alarmed.

"Um." She closed her mouth and looked down, shaking her head. "It just hit me that she must have years and years of expectations built up. I can't live up to that! I'm not… she's going to meet me and be disappointed! I haven't even met her yet and I'm already letting her down!"

That was the Annie he knew, all right. Jeff leaned over to embrace her. "No no no," he murmured as she dug her head into his shoulder. "That is just not possible. You're the greatest woman on Earth." He meant that, too. Jeff generally tried not to think too much about the depth of his feelings for Annie; thinking about it led to talking about it led to scaring her away or scaring himself away.

"You're sweet," she whispered back. "But most people don't think that."

"Most people are wrong. Which comes as no surprise, when you look at our political system." Jeff was gratified to feel her loosen a bit against him. "But she's known how much I adore you longer than I have, basically, so if she's prejudiced it's absolutely in your favor. So long as you don't suddenly start talking about how much you hate _Simon & Simon_, you'll be golden, I promise."

" _Simon & Simon_?"

"Her favorite TV show." Seeing her lack of recognition, Jeff added, "It's been off the air since before you were born…"

"And I'm hearing about it for the first time now?!" Wild-eyed, Annie swatted him on the shoulder. "If I'd known about it I could have prepared! I bet it's on YouTube or Netflix, or I could get the DVDs… is Best Buy open today?"

"Annie." Jeff pulled her up and off him, and looked her in the eye. "It's going to be fine, I promise."

She drew herself up, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, opening them. "But if it isn't fine we go back to your place and I don't have to get out of bed until Monday."

He couldn't help smiling at her. "That's true either way."

"Now come on, we're fifteen minutes late… It's going to be fine." Annie muttered to herself as she looked up _Simon & Simon_ on Wikipedia with her phone. "It's going to be fine."

* * *

MEAL PLANNING

 

"It's going to be fine," Shirley assured Andre for the fourth time that day. The couple stood in their kitchen, surveying the array of side dishes, salad, stuffing, and cornbread. Four cases of wine, which was probably three times more than they would need but leftovers would keep. Enough food to satisfy a regiment; every day for weeks Shirley had thought of some desperately-needed addition to the menu. Guests, when dinner started, would have their choice of four entrees: turkey, ham, salmon, and what Shirley had been calling _Godawful vegan tofu spaghetti_ because calling it _Britta_ seemed cruel "Just fine."

Andre uncorked their second bottle of wine. "The more you say that," he said, "the less confident I get."

"Pierce is in Las Vegas for the holiday," she reminded him. "Jeffrey will be on his best behavior because his mother will be here…"

"Have you met his mother?" he asked as he poured. "What's her name?"

"I have no reason to think she's anything but lovely. Her name is Doreen, and she had a heart attack two months ago, and she's doing well."

"Not so well as to have Thanksgiving at her own house," muttered Andre. "I love you baby, and I know you love your friends, but I feel like we're setting ourselves up for farce having all these people over."

"It's not so many people! Just you and me and the kids and your brother and his wife and their kids and your mother and your stepfather and your cousin Estelle… and Annie and Jeff, and Doreen, and Troy and Britta, and Abed and Ronette."

"That's like twenty people." He took a sip of wine and handed another glass to Shirley. "Is it too late to send them all to get Chinese somewhere, and we grab the kids and flee for the border?"

"You be nice, now," she said, and sipped from the glass he gave her. "And you know Jeff and Annie will be in their own little world with Doreen probably, and you know your family would be here anyway, so really we're just having Troy and Abed over, with their dates."

"Does Abed know he has a date?" Andre asked.

Shirley looked away.

"You were going to talk to him about this in advance. You said you would," Andre reminded her. "You weren't just going to spring Ronette on him. Or him on Ronette — does she know you're playing matchmaker?"

"Of course," Shirley said airily.

"And she's game?"

"Of course." Shirley drained her wineglass. "I didn't exactly tell her much about Abed. Just that he's a sweet boy. Muslim, half-Polish, loves movies and television."

Andre made a face. "That's more than I knew about him, woman — he's half-Polish?"

"She can learn all about him when she meets him," Shirley continued. "There's nothing wrong with him, after all."

"It's going to be farce," Andre said gloomily. "Thanksgiving growing up was always a farce. If we're out of nutmeg," he warned her, "I am not going to make three trips out into the rain trying to buy some."

"We have plenty of nutmeg," Shirley said in a singsong voice. "With both his roommates in relationships, Abed will see that it's high time for him to settle down, with a nice girl."

"Is this about him and Troy, and how you thought they were…?"

"I never thought that," Shirley said sharply. "I just think that Abed deserves to meet a nice young woman like Ronette."

"Ronette," muttered Andre.

"She was named after the girl group." Shirley checked her watch. "And she should be here by now."

 


	2. Ingredients of Thanksgiving Act 2

INGREDIENTS OF THANKSGIVING

* * *

SOCIAL ANXIETY II

 

"It's the rain," Jeff was saying. "I'm sorry. Everybody's running late, you know?" He and Annie stood at the back door of Doreen's home, in her garage. Behind them the cold rain pounded the driveway, where Jeff's car was parked, and blew into the front of the garage through the open door.

"Oh, it's no problem, dear," Doreen assured him. "Come inside, come inside," she said as she reached up to hug her son. Jeff hugged her, a little awkwardly, and started through the door into the kitchen. "And you must be Annie," Doreen said to her.

Annie smiled as broadly as she ever had — she wasn't sure she would be able to relax the smile if she tried — and gave a stupid little half-wave. "Hi!" she said, like an idiot. "I'm Annie. I mean, you're right. Got it in one. Annie. Annie Edison."

Suddenly Doreen was embracing her. She was smaller than Jeff, Annie thought distantly, but bigger than Annie. Of course that was true of most of the people she met — bigger than Annie, smaller than Jeff. But Doreen was older than both of them. Maybe older than both of them combined, Annie thought. How old was Doreen when she had Jeff? Why was Annie thinking such inane thoughts?

"It's so good to finally meet you," Doreen said as she released Annie from her embrace. "You know I've been bugging Jeff for a picture for, oh, forever."

"Oh yeah?" Annie asked, still smiling like a fool. According to Wikipedia, _Simon & Simon_ ran from 1981 to 1989. It was not actually a spin-off from _Magnum PI_ , which Annie had also never seen, but it aired immediately after that show, closely associated in promotions, and they did a crossover once. One of the stars of _Simon & Simon_ later played George Hearst on _Deadwood,_ which she had watched with Abed.

"He says his phone doesn't take or store pictures," Doreen said. "Ridiculous!"

"Yeah," said Annie.

"Still, what can you do. Please, come in. I can make some coffee," offered Doreen. She led Annie by the hand into an exceedingly tidy kitchen, where Jeff stood.

"Actually, Mom, we're running late, so we should get going…" Jeff began.

Doreen leaned into Annie and whispered conspiratorially. "You want to see his childhood bedroom?"

"You bet!" said Annie. She swallowed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Winger, I'm not usually so inarticulate."

"Oh, I know that, dear. You're the only one at that school who can give Jeff a run for his money, from what I hear. And please, call me Doreen." Doreen smiled at Annie while eyeing her up and down, then turned to her son. "Did you just now tell her that you've been telling me about her for years?" She turned back to Annie. "He did, didn't he?"

Not knowing what else to do, Annie nodded.

Doreen sighed. "It'll be okay." She patted Annie on the shoulder. "Would you like to see some embarrassing pictures he drew in elementary school?"

"Yes please," whispered Annie.

Doreen took her by the hand and led her deeper into the house.

* * *

MEETING NEW PEOPLE

 

Despite Jeff's assertion, the light rain did not appreciably affect Britta's drive-time from Troy's apartment to Shirley's house. She pulled into the driveway and parked behind two other cars. "Before we go in," she began, but Abed had already opened a rear door and hopped out. "Damn it! Why did I splurge on a car with a four doors? I never use the ones in the back myself! I really only need two. Or one!"

"What's up?" Troy, in the passenger seat, asked her. "You seem upset about something."

"I just wanted to…" Britta craned her neck to see Abed already ringing the front doorbell, in the rain. "Never mind. Come on! Shirley will think we're weird if we just sit in the car while Abed goes in."

"Well, yeah, that would be weird," agreed Troy as he opened his door. "Why did you want to be weird?"

Britta shook her head as she, herself, exited her car. "You know, we're an interracial couple… Shirley's family might not be cool…"

"Is this about you fishing for drama again?" Troy asked her as they stomped through the rain to Shirley's front door.

"No!" Britta glared at him. "No," she said again, more gently, as they stepped into place behind Abed. "I just know that for a lot of people, commonly but not exclusively African-Americans…" Britta froze as Andre answered the door.

"Come in, come in," he said, waving them forward. "It's nasty out there. Happy Thanksgiving, let me take your coats…"

"'Hello Mr. Bennet. Thank you for inviting us into your home,'" Troy recited as he pulled off his coat. "'Your home is very lovely.' Hi, man. My grandma told me to always say that. Thanks, though," he added, handing the coat to Andre.

"Yes thank you happy Thanksgiving yes," Britta blurted out, as she followed Troy's lead. "It's really very kind of you to have us all over…"

As Troy and Britta fumbled at small talk with Shirley's husband, Abed, his coat already stowed, wandered forward into the house. He passed a short hallway that led to a large living room full, by the sound of it, of a football game and people watching a football game, stopping only at the top of a flight of stairs that led down into a finished basement. Somebody in the basement was playing some version of Mario, or else they were watching a video of someone playing some version of Mario, which, if you weren't the person playing Mario, was basically the same thing. He cocked his head, trying to identify which version of Mario it was from the sounds.

"Abed!" Shirley was on him, suddenly; she popped out from around a corner. She was all smiles in her apron, but she gripped his wrist hard and hauled him into the kitchen. "So glad you could make it. Ronette, this is Abed," she said to a pretty dark-skinned girl who had been leaning against the fridge with her arms folded. 

"Hi," the girl said, in the uncomfortable way people sometimes did when they met him and they'd had some kind of forewarning about him, and they were trying to be nice but also trying to determine whether the forewarning had overstated or understated the extent to which Abed was weird.

"Ronette's a friend of mine from church," Shirley explained. She didn't have to say she wanted to set Abed up with her, because this was Shirley and Abed had known her for years and he'd been resigned to something like this happening, probably today, because Shirley had no doubt noticed that Troy and Annie had both coupled up. Troy and Annie's coupled-up partners were six and twelve years older than they were, respectively. Abed wondered, idly, whether Ronette was eighteen, nine, or three years older than he was. She looked the same age, but looks could be deceiving. Annie and Britta looked the same age.

"Nice to meet you," Abed said, because it was time for him to say something. He considered extending a hand to shake, but decided against it.

"Have some wine," Shirley told him, and held a glass of it out for him. 

Abed accepted it, because that was polite, but didn't drink it, because he didn't like wine. "Thanks," he said after a moment. He smiled, not too broadly — he'd gotten better at that recently, Britta had been helping him — and avoided staring at anyone.

"Shirley tells me you're into movies," Ronette said. She played with her hair a little, either because she was nervous or because she was flirting or because she was having trouble selecting a shampoo that properly addressed her needs, depending on what kind of scene this was, or would have been if it had been in a movie or television show or commercial.

"Yes," said Abed. Small talk meant providing details. "I'm majoring in film at the community college. I enjoy sci-fi, fantasy, and horror media in particular. I went to a convention for _Inspector Spacetime_ last month, with my friend Troy. _Inspector Spacetime_ is a long-running British science-fiction show that neophtyes often confuse with _Doctor Who_."

"Oh, wow," said Ronette in a tone that suggested — Abed couldn't be sure but it seemed like a plausible guess — that she was not, in fact, wowed by his small talk. "I don't really watch much TV," she added.

Abed nodded. "Then I shouldn't try to talk to you about it; you'd find it boring and I'd find it frustrating." He reviewed what he knew about Ronette. Options for an appropriate small-talk question were limited. "Do you enjoy church?"

Ronette laughed in a way that Abed couldn't possibly parse more finely than 'either nervous/polite or relieved/entertained.' "I guess, yeah."

"Well, listen to you two," Shirley said, pleased. In context that probably meant Ronette had sounded relieved/entertained.

Abed asked himself what Jeff would do in this situation, but that was an unhelpful exercise: Ronette wasn't Annie, so he didn't know if Jeff would be her type. He decided to try a gambit instead. "I heard a video game downstairs," he said. "Care to join me in checking it out?"

"Sure," said Ronette. She moved forward, off the fridge and in his direction.

"The kids are downstairs," Shirley said, over Ronette's shoulder.

"Don't worry Shirley, we won't steal their toys," Ronette told her without turning around. She winked at Abed, but that could have meant anything.

Abed backed out of the kitchen and into the hallway, Ronette close at hand. He turned and started walking down the stairs.

Behind him, he heard Ronette sigh. "I'm sorry about this," she said. "I was going to go home for Thanksgiving but my ride fell through, and Shirley invited me…"

"Shirley's nice," said Abed.

"Oh, yes. Kind of pushy sometimes, but nice," Ronette agreed. "Anyway, you know how it is."

"Sure," said Abed, though he wondered which of the thousands of possibilities Ronette's 'it' referred to.

"Get the young, single people together," Ronette said. "Kind of heavy-handed."

"Sure," Abed said again, relieved she had provided slightly more context.

* * *

CATCHING UP WITH RELATIVES

 

Upstairs Annie sat in an oversized love seat next to Jeff's mother and felt especially small. Doreen was incredibly nice, was the thing. She'd given Annie a brief tour of her home, which was Jeff's childhood home, highlighting the adorable escapades of young Jeff. She'd learned that he went through a phase in elementary school where he drew dozens and dozens of pictures of professional wrestlers. She'd learned that he had once kicked a hole in the wall of his bedroom, which he'd tried to repair himself with spackle, without telling his mother. She'd learned that when he failed out of CU at nineteen he'd spent six years working a series of terrible retail jobs. During that time he'd told Doreen he was going to college, and then law school, in Denver. Doreen glossed over the failed-out-of-school and the lied-to-his-mother-for-six-years parts of the story and emphasized the part where Jeff passed the bar exam on his first try, despite not having any formal education. He'd only sat for the bar because Doreen had caught him in a lie and he'd needed to cover for it.

"And then, well, you know the rest. He's just lucky he didn't tell me he was in medical school." Doreen finished the story with a laugh.

"That would have been harder to fake," Jeff agreed. He eyed his empty wineglass with disappointment. "I'm going to get a refill," he announced, rising from the love seat's matching easy chair. "Either of you need anything?"

"Some water, please?" Doreen smiled at her son. "Thank you, dear."

"I'm fine," Annie said. Actually she was regretting turning down the wine Shirley had offered her, but Doreen hadn't been drinking and Annie didn't want the woman thinking she was a lush.

Doreen turned to Annie as soon as Jeff had walked away. "Annie, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Annie said, smiling brightly despite the waves of anxiety that were washing over her. Was Doreen going to ask where Annie saw herself in five years? Whether she expected to be the mother of Doreen's grandchildren? Whether Annie wanted the hypothetical grandchildren to be raised Jewish or Episcopalian? What the real story was behind whatever scrim of half-truths and innuendos Jeff had no doubt told his mother about Annie's reasons for being at Greendale instead of Harvard?

"How is he?" Doreen asked, surprising her. "Assuming, for the moment, that what he's told me about you is true, which it seems to be… well, you know him better than I do."

Annie stammered over the unexpected question. "I don't know if that's true…"

"You don't need me telling you, but he can be very tight-lipped," Doreen told her. "It was twisting his arm to get him to even describe or name you. I'm his mother; I can't help worrying about him. You'd know if he wasn't on track to graduate in the spring, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely," Annie said, relieved that the interview seemed to be going in a different direction than it might have. _When was the last time you spoke to your mother? Why have you disappointed her so badly? Why did your parents divorce? To what extent was it your fault? When was the last time you took Adderall? Have you arranged to intern at St. Francis yet? Why not? What else do you expect to do with a degree in Hospital Administration from a community college?_ "I would, and he is. Definitely. He's doing well."

"Oh, good." Doreen was visibly relieved. She craned her neck towards the doorway to the kitchen, checking for Jeff. "I worry, you know." She glanced back at Annie. "I don't mean to be invading his privacy," she said. "I just know that there are things he wouldn't tell me. I mean, he made it sound like a new thing, but… did you get together a year ago and he just recently thought to mention it?"

Annie smiled and was about to say no, but then she considered the last year's worth of interactions with Jeff. "No," she said, after a moment's hesitation. "We were friends, of course, but we only… got together… recently. It was kind of gradual. But mostly not."

Doreen looked like she had another question, but just then Jeff reappeared, holding three stemless wineglasses in two hands. "Sorry that took so long, Shirley waylaid me in the kitchen," he said as he sat back down. "Here's your water," he said to his mother with a wink, handing her one of the glasses of wine.

"Just the thing! Thank you, dear," Doreen said with a smile.

Annie experienced something she hadn't in a very long time — she was on the outside of an in-joke with Jeff Winger. It was a discomfiting experience. She picked up the wine Jeff had brought her — had he read her mind, or was it just part of the in-joke? — and took a deep swallow.

* * *

PARTY GAMES

 

In the basement Abed, Ronette, two of Shirley's sons, and two of their cousins all sat in a circle. "This will be fun," Ronette assured the children, unnecessarily. "Has everyone played Apples to Apples before?"

"Yes," the children said in a ragged chorus, while Abed shuffled.

"I'll deal first," he announced, and did so.

"So fun," Ronette repeated, apparently to herself. Abed couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or if she was a genuine Apples to Apples enthusiast.

"The first card is…" Abed drew a red card. "A Cabin in the Woods. A Cabin in the Woods," he repeated.

"You have to read all the words!" protested one of the children.

"Do you not know what a cabin is?" Abed asked him. "Fine. 'Henry David Thoreau went to Walden Pond for two years. All we want is one lousy weekend.' A Cabin…" he paused for effect, "in the Woods."

One of the children — not the mouthy one who'd demanded he 'read the words' but maybe his brother? — took longer than everyone else to pick a card. Finally he tossed one down.

Abed scooped up the pile of green cards and read them. "And my options are… Scary, Charismatic, Scenic, Dirty, and Masculine." He glanced up. "Charismatic? Really?"

One of the children looked uncomfortable.

"Somebody might not have had a very good hand to start with," Ronette suggested.

"Okay. Obviously the correct answer is _Scary_ , in reference to the movie."

The children looked at one another. " _Scary Movie_?" hazarded one.

" _Cabin in the Woods_. Joss Whedon? Last spring?" Abed shook his head. "Kids today."

"That one was mine!" Ronette cried in a sing-song voice, either to cut off Abed from complaining, which is why Shirley would have done that, or because she really liked winning, which is why Annie would have done that, or maybe because she never won anything and was inordinately pleased with the minor accomplishment, which was why Britta would have done that. There was, Abed reflected as Ronette collected the trick and dealt, really no way to tell. "'Ginger & Mary Ann,'" she read a moment later. "And the read of it is 'here on Gilligan's Isle.'"

One of the children raised his hand. "I don't know what that is," he complained.

"Seriously?" Abed snapped. "You children are really lacking in media literacy."

"We can do another one," Ronette said quickly. She flipped another card. "'Hootie & the Blowfish.' Okay…" She flipped a third one. "'Lenin's Tomb.' Uh… 'Norman Rockwell…' seriously? 'Painting a Fence,'" she read off the fifth one. "Painting a fence?" she repeated, looking around for one of the kids to object. When no one did, she sighed. "'A good way to earn some money,' it says."

Abed reviewed the cards in his hand. It was an easy choice; he made his selection and placed it on the pile.

Again, the slow child took too long.

When he finally finished, Ronette picked up the cards. "Let's see," she said. "There's Square, Dull, Plain, Tempting, and Hardworking." She made a show of considering. "Painting a fence is definitely hard work, and you could call it square or dull or plain… but I have to go with _Tempting_. Tom Sawyer tricked a whole squad of boys into painting a fence, by making it seem tempting." She glanced at Abed, smiling in a way that was probably at least a little flirty, just based on context.

"That's me! Tom Sawyer!" said the largest and probably oldest of the children. Ronette's smile vanished as he took the trick.

"I was 'Hardworking,'" said Abed by way of apology.

 


	3. Ingredients of Thanksgiving Act 3

INGREDIENTS OF THANKSGIVING

* * *

 

THE MEAL ITSELF

 

It seemed to be going really well. Going back… well, months, at least, Jeff had very occasionally imagined introducing Annie to his mother as his girlfriend. In his imaginings Doreen varied from doting on Annie, who was of course the best person in the world, to carping at Jeff about how she was too young for him, to complaining that Jeff would ruin her life the way he'd ruined his own, to pointing out flaws of Jeff's that Annie hadn't noticed and thus prompting a breakup, to enormous vistas of awkward silence punctuated with terrifying demands for grandchildren. But it seemed to be going much better than he'd imagined it would.

There were enough people that dinner was a multitable affair, with mostly Shirley's family at one table, mostly the Greendale people at another, and the kids at a kids' table. Abed and Britta and a woman whose name Jeff hadn't learned were arguing about Apples to Apples, for some reason, but Jeff was, of course, far more interested in the conversation with Annie and his mother. She was peppering Jeff with questions about the last few years of his life, who the people who weren't Annie were, and so on. Troy, on Doreen's other side, did his best to charm her with anecdotes about Jeff being alternately lazy and dashing.

Annie was being atypically quiet, Jeff had noticed, but other than speaking less and listening more, she seemed fine. Jeff's mother was on her best behavior, as well; Jeff was canny enough to realize that Doreen wanted Annie to like her; if she didn't then it would be another excuse Jeff could use for not visiting more often. At least for as long as he was with Annie, which (don't think about it, finishing this thought leads to stress, think about scotch and breasts, scotch and Annie and breasts, scotch and Annie's breasts). He snapped to attention.

Doreen was laughing at Troy's story about the time he and Jeff had found a trampoline, and the strange janitor. "And you just believed him?" Doreen asked Jeff, smiling.

"Well, it's not like you encounter actual Nazis every day," Jeff said. He smiled sheepishly, which his mother had found charming for going on thirty years now. "Neither of us questioned it. He said he was getting a maze tattoo… okay, maybe I should have realized something was up, but there was a trampoline. I was distracted."

Doreen chuckled, shook her head and turned to Annie. "Did you know about this?"

"Um, after the fact," Annie replied. "Pierce broke both his legs on the trampoline, so, yeah."

The genial mood dampened abruptly, as Doreen's smile faded.

"He recovered," Annie assured her. "He was addicted to painkillers for a while," she added reluctantly, "but he's fine now."

"He's in Las Vegas this week I think," Jeff interjected, to take some heat off her. "Because what could be more Thanksgiving than that, right?"

"Obviously I must meet this Pierce," Doreen said, gamely shifting the mood. "He sounds like a real character. I didn't know there were lasers in Buddhism at all."

"Pierce's version, anyway," Annie said. She leaned over towards Troy, and changed the subject. "Tell her about the pillow-blanket war."

"Pillow-blanket war?" Doreen glanced at Jeff before turning to Troy. "Yes, tell her about the pillow-blanket war."

"Not much to tell," Troy said, and immediately gave lie to that assertion by spinning out the entire seventeen-part documentary drama of pillows and blankets that had engulfed Greendale for two days the year before.

Doreen interrupted him with laughter several times. "What were you doing during all this?" she asked Jeff, at one point. "Were you a pillow or a blanket?"

Jeff shook his head. "I spent the whole time bugging Annie. She set up a nonsectarian first aid station."

Annie nodded slowly. "But you ended the war."

"Only because you made me," Jeff retorted. "She does this thing… I've told you." He pointed to Annie with a fork while addressing Doreen. "She looks at you, and… well, not like that," he said, noticing Annie was glowering at him.

Doreen grunted in a manner that Jeff interpreted as _yes you've told me many times how she prods you into doing the right thing_ , and smiled at his girlfriend.

"It's true, it's true, he's wrapped around my little finger," Annie said to Doreen with a smile that didn't make it all the way to her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom real quick." She rose quickly and almost ran out of the room.

At this point Britta tried to bring Jeff, Doreen, and Troy into the Apples to Apples argument on her side — something about cultural literacy and whether the choice of which cards to include was in itself a political statement. Also whether a child born after 9/11 could be expected to know who Ginger and Mary Ann were.

Jeff, like all reasonable human beings, couldn't care less. "I'm going to grab a refill," he said, standing and waggling his empty wineglass.

On the way to the kitchen he saw the bathroom door was open and the room dark. In the kitchen he texted Annie.

 

**JEFF to ANNIE, 1743:**

**Are you ok?**

**ANNIE to JEFF, 1743:**

**Don't text at the table! [Shocked face emoji]**

**Who raised you?**

**Oh yeah supermom**

**JEFF to ANNIE, 1744:**

**I'm in the kitchen**

**Are you ok?**

**ANNIE to JEFF, 1744:**

**Garage**

 

Seconds later Jeff opened the garage door and entered. Annie stood, arms folded, staring thoughtfully at Shirley's garbage cans.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him. "What's the problem? My mother loves you."

Annie turned. "Of course she does, because I have your approval and she adores you," she snapped.

Jeff gave her a perplexed look. "What's the problem?" he asked again.

"Your mother is sweet and even though you barely talk to her she's just happy to be here and included. And she's laughing at all the jokes." Annie shook her head. "When you got up before? She asked me how you were doing, because she wasn't sure that you were on track to graduate and you wouldn't tell her if you weren't, and she just wants to… she just wants to be part of your life!" Jeff saw angry tears forming as she tried to blink them away.

"Ah." Jeff nodded slowly, thinking he understood. He walked to her and embraced her; she rested her head against his chest and let him hold her.

"Why do you get to have that?" Annie whispered. "Why don't I get to have that?"

"Do you want her?" Jeff offered. "You'd take better care of her than I do. Go on walks with her, get her the nice canned food, play with her…"

She pulled back from his embrace and swatted him in the chest. "No! Did you hear what I said? She asked me if you were going to graduate because she didn't know and she didn't trust you to tell her!"

"I am going to graduate," Jeff protested. "Four years, as per the usual."

"That's not the point!" Annie swatted him again. "She didn't know… she didn't know Britta's name!"

"She knew your name," he pointed out. It seemed weird that Annie would even want Doreen to know Britta's name; wasn't his mother's ignorance yet another piece of evidence that he adored Annie?

She tilted her head in a way he recognized as signaling anger. "Only because apparently you couldn't describe the last four years even glancingly without mentioning me. Not because you've made any effort at all to tell her about your life!"

"Okay, yes," Jeff admitted, stalling so he could think for just a moment. "But she knows Britta now, and Shirley, and Troy and Abed and especially you, the brightest star —"

"Oh!" cried Annie. "You are _not_ trying to sweet-talk me!" She spun around and stomped away from him a few feet. "You were at Greendale for a whole semester before she even knew you hadn't actually been to law school!" she added, over her shoulder.

"Annie," Jeff said, sighed. "I know I haven't been the best son. I was ashamed when I flunked out, and I didn't want to let her down, and…"

He trailed off when she turned and eyed him coldly. "We're going to talk about this more later. Right now we're going to go back inside and make sure your mother has the best possible time. Then you're going to make plans to see her again. Specific plans! Don't you smile at me," she warned.

"I can't help it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning at her. "Okay. You're joining us for whatever we're doing, though."

"Well, obviously." Annie smiled shyly at him, then set her jaw. "I'm still mad at you, mister," she said, pointing at him.

"I know, I know." He cocked his head at her and tried not to think about how quickly he'd caved. "You're just really cute."

* * *

 

COFFEE AND DESSERT

 

Shirley had made five different pies, of course. Pumpkin, apple, pecan, some kind of custard, and lemon meringue. Abed's first dessert was pumpkin pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. There was no obvious reason not to take a second dessert, he decided; there was plenty of food. He cleaned his plate and waited until everyone who wanted pie had already gotten some. For second dessert Abed took a small slice of each, excepting the custard, which he didn't like the look of, and another scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Ronette was still sitting across from him, even though everyone else had drifted away from the table. She sipped a cup of coffee. "Someone likes pie," she said, as he sat down.

"Pie's good," Abed said as he debated which of the four slices to eat first. Pecan, he decided.

"You know," Ronette said suddenly, "I never got a chance to ask — what's your major? Shirley said you were a student, but I never heard what you were studying."

"Film," Abed replied through a mouthful of pecan pie. He was pretty sure he'd said that, but decided against correcting her.

"Do you have plans for after graduation in the spring?"

"Not graduating." Abed took another bite of pie. "I'll be short a bunch of credits. Maybe next spring."

"Oh? Did something happen? I don't mean to pry," Ronette said. She made some kind of facial expression.

Abed tried to mirror it, and then her expression changed to confusion, which was one he recognized, so he stopped. "Nothing happened," he said instead. "I just haven't been in a hurry to finish. There's a bunch of distribution requirements I still need."

"Oh, I see." Ronette took another sip of her coffee and watched Abed eat. "I'm a junior at CU," she said after a minute.

Abed nodded. It made sense; she looked about the right age for it.

"Education major," she added.

"Cool." Abed dug into the pumpkin pie. "The pecan pie was pretty good, but the pumpkin is still better," he declared.

Ronette stared at him a moment. "You do get that Shirley was trying to set us up, right?" 

Abed nodded. "Oh yeah, I caught on to that pretty quick. And even if I hadn't gotten it right away, seating us together at dinner was a dead giveaway."

"Okay." She stared at him a moment more, before shaking her head. "Well. I guess I'll leave you to your pie…" She started to get up.

"I'm sorry?" Abed offered, because sometimes that helped. "I'm getting the sense I've offended you somehow."

She paused. "I guess I'm not used to guys having such a palpable lack of interest."

Abed blinked. "You're very pretty, but we don't have anything at all in common," he pointed out. "Do we have chemistry and I didn't notice? I can usually tell."

Ronette shook her head.

"Should I have been faking interest?" he asked. "I thought that would just waste both our times. In media when a blind date goes sour they cut away so you don't get to see how the people deal with it. Although this isn't really a blind date."

She held up her hands. "You know what? I've embarrassed myself enough for one night. Bye, Abed."

"Bye," Abed said. He sighed as he moved on to the apple slice. Shirley was probably going to corner him and chew him out for being rude.

* * *

SOCIAL ANXIETY III

 

"I need to grab one thing. Two things. Three, tops." Annie rushed into her apartment and on into her room, leaving Jeff in the living area. He sank onto the couch and considered taking his shoes off — it had been a long day — but decided to wait until they were back at his place. He settled for leaning back and closing his eyes. Brunch with his mother on Sunday, he thought. What had happened to him, that he had become a man who made brunch plans?

A sharp knock at the door roused him. Thinking Abed or Troy had forgotten their keys, he rose and threw the door open without a pause.

The future stared him in the face. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Annie 2099. Future!Annie.

Future!Annie was the same tiny size, she had the same complexion, but she wasn’t identical to the Annie that Jeff knew and loved. Glasses, for one thing. Also Future!Annie’s hair was wavier, cut shorter, and she wore it loose. A dark pantsuit, and high heels. And, of course, she was older. How much older was hard to say — ten years, maybe a little less. Her face was sharp in places Annie’s was soft, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

In a flash Jeff ran down the possibilities, settling on the one that seemed most plausible. Annie had an older sister she’d never mentioned. She was estranged, which was why Annie had never mentioned her. It was Thanksgiving and, in the spirit of having met Jeff's mother, Annie had invited her over in an attempt to reconcile.

For a microsecond and entirely against his will Jeff found himself cursing the universe for introducing him first to the firecracker girl whose life he was trying not to ruin, and only second to this ersatz copy who was clearly closer to him in age. If Annie were a decade older fully a third of his anxieties would probably be resolved. Although with another decade of life under her belt, Annie might know better than to get involved with a guy like him...

Behind him, Annie said something that derailed his entire train of thought: “Hello, mother.”

Of course. Damn, she didn't look like she could be Annie's mother. Child bride? Really good genes? Annie was involved; it had to be the excellent genes.

“Annie.” Annie’s mother smiled with the lower half of her face. She extended her arms for a hug. “It’s so good to see you,” she said flatly, as though Annie were an old work acquaintance she’d encountered at a cocktail party.

Rather than embrace her mother, Annie stepped slightly closer to Jeff. He slid an arm around her.

Annie’s mother lowered her arms. “Don't tell me," she said to Jeff. "You certainly aren't Troy Barnes, so you must be Abed Nadir." The woman extended a hand for him to shake, or possibly kiss; the gesture was ambiguous. “Sadie Parker-Edison, charmed.”

 

 


	4. Watergate and Maternity Act 1

(Thanks, once again, to both bethanyactually and amrywiol.)

WATERGATE AND MATERNITY

ACT ONE

* * *

Annie's world spun and she felt light-headed. It was as though she was seeing herself from outside her own body, floating gently above, disconnected from the world. She hadn't laid eyes on her mother in just over three and a half years, not since May of 2009. Sadie Parker-Edison looked superficially the same as she always had, but Annie thought her face had grown a little more severe, the circles under her eyes a little darker, the perpetual scowl a little stiffer.

She'd always thought that, seeing her mother again, she'd be angry.  _How dare her mother treat her so badly_ , et cetera. In the moment, however, Annie only felt exhausted, blank. Delightful as Doreen had turned out to be, it had still been a grueling experience. She'd made it through meeting Jeff's mother in part by promising herself they were going to go back to Jeff's apartment and crawl into his bed and she wouldn't have to think about anything else in the world until Monday morning. Sunday morning, actually, since she'd made brunch plans with Doreen and Jeff. It didn't seem fair that Sadie Parker-Edison would show up here, now, tonight; but Annie couldn't make herself feel anything other than a dull pang.

Annie screwed her eyes shut and opened them again, focusing. Jeff was talking, saying he wasn't Abed. Sadie had called him Abed, despite knowing his real name full well. Annie had no doubt Sadie had compiled reams of information before making this move.

"Jeff is my boyfriend," she said wearily, interrupting Jeff's stammering attempts to explain why he had answered the door, if it wasn't his apartment.

"Oh, of course," Sadie said, baring her teeth at Jeff in a way that could be mistaken for a smile.  _This wrecked old thing is the best you could do?_ "Any friend of Annie's."

"It's nice to meet you," Jeff said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Nothing too terrible I hope." Sadie's laugh was a sound Annie hadn't heard in years.  _You've tried to prejudice your so-called friends against me but it won't work; they'll soon see the truth_. She glanced around. "This is a lovely building you have, by the way."  _How dare you leave me standing in the hall like a tradesman! I demand you invite me in instantly!_

"Thank you so much," Annie said mechanically. "Please, come in. Can I offer you a drink?"

"Oh, thank you," Sadie replied, strolling in. She dropped her coat on the floor in front of Jeff, or would have, if he hadn't caught it. "I wouldn't say no to a glass of sauvignon blanc, if you have any."  _You don't, of course. You live like an animal in its den_.

Jeff draped Sadie's coat over a kitchen chair and shot Annie a panicked look, which she returned.

As he stumbled after Sadie, who had seated herself primly on the couch, Annie hurried into the kitchen. "I don't think we have any sauvignon blanc," she called. In one of the cupboards she had a boxed white wine, which she'd bought on her first official grown-up liquor-store trip almost a year ago now. Annie wasn't sure where it was, she didn't want to serve her mother boxed wine, and she was fairly sure it was Riesling anyway.

"Oh, it's no problem, just tap water would be fine," Sadie called back to her.  _Less than a minute in your home and already you disappoint me_. _Is this my fault? Am I unreasonable in my expectations_?

Annie grabbed a glass and filled it quickly, not wanting to leave Jeff alone with Sadie any longer than she had to. She dashed to the couch as rapidly as she could manage without spilling anything.

"Thank you," Sadie said, plucking the glass from Annie's hands and setting it on the coffee table in front of her without taking a sip. She used a coaster; thank God, Annie thought, that she had gotten coasters and set them out and even convinced Troy and Abed not to use them as frisbees.  _Of course I wouldn't make myself sick drinking your unfiltered water. Heaven knows what diseases swim through this filth-hole's plumbing._ "So," she continued, turning from Annie to Jeff, "how did you two meet?"

"I've known Annie for a few years now. We were in Spanish 101 together, back in our first semester at Greendale," Jeff began. He sounded composed; he must have seen this question coming and taken a moment to prepare. Annie wished she could have taken Jeff aside and warned him that her mother never asked questions she didn't already know the answer to.

"Greendale?" Sadie repeated, as though confused. "Oh, the community college. GCC. Of course, silly me."

"We were part of a study group, and we took more classes together, and, here we are," he continued. "Of course your daughter is invaluable as a study buddy."

"I'm sure." Sadie beamed at Jeff.  _Study buddy, he says. He may as well have just said 'I am dating your daughter because she helps me cheat.'_

There was a brief lull, during which time Jeff and Annie exchanged baffled and worried looks without Sadie noticing. Or rather, Annie hoped but didn't quite believe that her mother hadn't noticed.

"I'm sorry," Sadie said suddenly. "I know this must come as a shock to you, my suddenly coming over without so much as a call or email. We haven't been in touch lately," she said, which was the understatement of the century. "I thought perhaps in the spirit of the holiday you'd be willing to see me."  _Do you wish to reject me, and be revealed as an unreasonable and infantile brat in front of your so-called boyfriend, or are you willing to admit you were wrong?_

"Of course," Annie said with barely a moment's hesitation. She blinked back tears and willed herself not to crack.

"Oh, thank you so much," Sadie said. She reached over and patted Annie's knee.  _You see? That wasn't so hard. I'm back now and we can begin fixing all the problems you've made for yourself._

Jeff, perhaps noticing Annie's reaction, cleared his throat. "I hate to be the jerk," he said, "but the thing is, Annie and I have movie tickets and we need to get going."

Annie winced. Jeff was trying to help. Jeff didn't know any better.

"Really?" Sadie raised an eyebrow. "I'm so sorry, don't let me keep you."  _I'm only the mother you've been estranged from since high school, obviously I'm less important than a movie date with the disbarred liar here. An imaginary movie date, I might add, if it were necessary to drive the point home, which it isn't._  "This is what happens when you don't call ahead. What are you seeing?"

Jeff didn't blink. " _Life of Pi_."

"Oh, you'll have to tell me how that is. Are you seeing the 8:45 screening at the mall or the 9:00 screening at the theater out on Highway 87?"  _How stupid does this oaf think I am? How much more stupid must he think you, my daughter, to be? Does he lie constantly to you? How can you be sure he does not?_

"Yes, exactly," Jeff said, rising, "and if we don't leave in the next minute we'll miss the previews."

"Well, I won't keep you," Sadie said, rising as well. "But before you go, we must make plans to meet up," she said to Annie. "Specific plans."

"Absolutely," Annie said. She was getting that light-headed feeling again.

"Brunch on Sunday?" Sadie suggested. "It's been simply forever since we've gone to Anne-Marie's Room, you and me _." Your lying junkyard dog here will of course be absent._

Annie started to nod, despite herself, even though she had already made plans to have brunch on Sunday with Jeff's mother… at Anne-Marie's Room, in fact, at Annie's suggestion.

Fortunately Jeff stepped in, again, snapping his fingers. "Oh, no, you know we have that thing," he said.

"Right," Annie gasped. "Sorry."

"Oh, it's not a problem," Sadie assured her.  _Invite me to dinner. Invite me to dinner right now._

"How about dinner on Monday night? We can have it here," Annie heard someone say. "I'd like you to meet my friends," the mysterious voice continued. Annie realized it was her own.

"That sounds lovely," Sadie declared. "Well, as I said, don't let me keep you." She gave Annie a perfunctory hug — when did Annie stand up? She'd been sitting a moment ago — and shook Jeff's hand before showing herself out.

Annie managed to avoid toppling over until the apartment door closed. Jeff lunged to catch her as she collapsed, and helped her onto the couch.

"Wow," he said, first petting her shoulder gently, then drawing her into an embrace. "Wow."

Annie started to reply, but it was too hard and she just sighed instead.

* * *

For most of Greendale's student body, the Friday after Thanksgiving was a holiday. For Troy Barnes, however, the Friday after Thanksgiving was a Friday like every other Friday. As the Truest Repairman of the Air Conditioning Repair School, his Fridays were occupied with rites, sacraments, and rituals. The morning after dinner at Shirley's he lounged, as usual, in his ceremonial coronet and worksuit of state, upon the gilded Throne of the Artisans. The Throne was a gorgeous art object, an artifact with a long and storied history dating all the way back to the Air Conditioning Repair School's founding in 1979.

"Thank God it's Friday!" chanted the Electricians Three from their lectern facing the Repairman. "Thank God it's Friday!"

"TGIF," intoned the assembly of over eighty jumpsuit-clad men and women.

"Thank God it's Friday!" The first of the Electricians Three, traditionally known as Ada, Maiden of Everflowing Currents, spoke clearly and carefully. This semester's Ada was a senior, like Troy, whose name rhymed with Bella but wasn't Bella. He'd only spoken with her a few times, but he knew she was a termite-inspection major.

"TGIF," repeated the assembly.

"Thank God it's Friday!" The second of the Electricians Three, whose liturgical name was Lisa-Marie, Mother of High Fidelity, tended to mumble. Troy was fairly sure this was ironic, but hesitated to say so, in case he was mistaken. Her real name was Megan, she'd been Ada last year when Troy had become the Truest Repairman, and she was an AC Repair major with a minor in Contracting and a concentration in Renovation Cost Estimates.

"TGIF," repeated the assembly, again.

"Let's dance, the last dance, the last dance tonight." Troy glanced at the third of the Electricians Three, Debra the Crone of Turbine Control. The final line of the Friday opening ceremony had always seemed out of place to him.

Vice-Dean Jerry, resplendent in his ceremonial robes hand-sewn from old vacuum cleaner bags, stepped solemnly to the lectern as the Electricians Three doffed their smocks and sat down with the rest of the assembly. "This week's homily is on the subject of Friday." He cleared his throat. "Thank God it's Friday," he said. "That's what we always say. Thank… God… it's… Friday. We hear that every week, but how many of us have really taken the time to think about what it means?"

Sensing that Jerry had already used all of his A material, Troy decided to intercede. "Excuse me," he said, sitting up.

Jerry cut off his sermon and bowed, as the assembly all straightened in their seats.

"I know we all love the Rite of TGIF," Troy said. "And it's great that everybody's here. I kind of thought attendance would be down today, but apparently not."

"We're Air Conditioning Repairmen and Repairwomen," Jerry assured him. "We're in it for the long haul, boss."

Troy shook his head. "And that's great, thanks. But today is the day after Thanksgiving, and I know a lot of people want to spend time with their families or get good deals on electronics. So I was thinking that maybe we could cut it short today?"

"Cut it short?" repeated Jerry, in a tone that he might have used if Troy had asked him to slaughter a puppy.

"Yeah, you know. Thank everybody for coming out — you guys are great, don't get me wrong — and then just call it a day," Troy said.

"But we… it's…" Jerry fidgeted with his hands. "I mean, of course we can do that, sir, if you want…"

"Can we?" Troy asked. "Show of hands. Everybody?" He waved to the assembly, who slowly raised their hands.

Troy tried to gauge the room. The assembly shifted in their seats, and he couldn't tell whether they were excited about a day off from the ceremonial duties of the Truest Repairman and his flock, or if they were just going along with it.

"Okay, either everybody is on board with this plan or else we have another situation like the time I said  _Dark Knight Rises_  was a really bad movie, so, I'm asking, anyone who isn't sincere in their desire to get out of here, please put your hands down." Troy left his hand raised, then, fearing he was unfairly prejudicing the assembly, lowered it.

Most of the assembly, seeing him lower his hand, lowered theirs.

Troy ran his hand down his face. "C'mon, guys," he complained. "I know you don't want to let me down, but c'mon." He sank back into his seat.

"How about we just do a quick run-through?" suggested Vice-Dean Jerry.

"Would it actually be shorter?" Troy asked.

"Well, maybe…" Jerry considered. "Although we had to stop the ritual for this conversation, so when you take this extra time into account…"

Troy grunted in disgust. "Ugh! Just when I think I've gotten the hang of this whole thing, you guys pull something else. Listen. I don't want to be here, okay? Maybe all of you do, but right now Abed is at home marathoning old episodes of  _Inspector Spacetime_  and  _Porcupine Mouse_ , without me. And Britta is… I don't know what she's doing, exactly, but it's probably more fun than listening to Jerry's sermon, no offense Jerry."

"None taken!" Jerry assured him.

"So I'm going to put my Truest Repairman foot down on the AC Repair Annex floor. Messiah says, let's all just go home." Troy surveyed the assembly, hoping they were impressed by his leadership rather than disappointed.

Megan aka Lisa-Marie the Mother of High Fidelity, raised her hand. "Does this mean I'm not anointing your feet with oil?"

Troy looked at her, then at Jerry, and then back to her. "We're not doing that," he said. "Was that a thing we were going to do? We were never going to do that."

"Sire —"

"I've told you: Troy."

"Yes, Troy. Sire, Troy, may we sidebar?" Jerry tilted his head in the direction of the side door to the Holy Breakroom.

Troy sighed. "Sure," he said, and stood. He cupped his hands around his mouth and cried out. "Everybody go home!"

He started towards the Holy Breakroom, with Jerry and, for some reason, Megan, following him.

Once in the Holy Breakroom, Troy closed the door and settled into a chair with a sigh. "What's this about?" he asked Jerry bluntly as he poured himself a goblet of mead from the carafe that was always chilled and ready. Troy didn't even like mead. He'd suggested that the mead fund be donated to a food bank instead, but the Air Conditioning Repair Official Mead-Poursman had about broken down crying, so as a show of support for poor Teddy Troy made an effort to pretend to like the stuff.

"Troy, sire. Troy." Jerry cleared his throat. "It's about the harvest festival. By ancient tradition dating back to the Reagan administration, you'll be expected to don the crown of ash and alder, to take up the scepter of HEPA filters, and bless the pumpkin-headed king of autumn, so we can burn it and secure blessings for the AC Repair Annex to sustain us through the coming winter. Winter is coming."

"I know, I know." Troy took a swig of mead and despite his best efforts made a face. "I told you I want the budget for the festival cut in half, with the balance going to the women's shelter on Harrison Avenue."

"I know, sire. Troy." Jerry nodded. "And we are coming in very close to that budgetary goal. But there's a minor issue, uh, something that you should have been informed about already. I'm not sure how to put this…" He glanced at Megan.

Megan looked about ready to pop with excitement, bouncing in place and nodding. She clapped her hands together, unable to keep silent any longer. "I can't believe they didn't tell you! We're going to be married!"

Troy did a spit take, spewing mead all over the Holy Breakroom table. The Mead-Poursman rose from his stool in the corner to wipe it up, as Troy slammed the goblet down. "What?"

"I'm going to be the Queen of the Harvest! Bride of the Truest Repairman!" Megan squealed in giddy delight. "I have been dreaming of this since I was a little girl, and it's finally happening, and  _eeee_!" She broke down in gleeful squeaking.

"That's not going to happen —"

"It's just part of the ritual," Jerry said, trying to calm Troy. "It would only be legally binding in places that recognize marriages performed in the state of Colorado." He winced, remembering something. "And the Vatican," he added. "Vice-Dean Laybourne made a special arrangement with Pope John Paul II at their last golf game together."

"That's not… seriously? Laybourne played golf? He didn't look like a golf guy." Troy shook his head. "But that doesn't matter. I am not going to get ritually married just so that you can light a pumpkin-headed effigy on fire!"

Megan looked crushed, much like the Mead-Poursman had when Troy had pitched the food bank idea. "Oh," she said, seeing Troy was serious. "I'm sorry I don't meet your expectations, sire."

"Troy," said Troy. "And it's got nothing to do with you, Megan. It's just, one, I think a lot of these ostentatious displays of wealth are ridiculous and the money could be better used for a lot of things…"

The Mead-Poursman, who had just sat back down on his stool after wiping off the Holy Breakroom table, let out an involuntary yelp.

"I know, Teddy," Troy said over his shoulder. "It's okay." He turned back to Megan and Jerry. "And two, I have a girlfriend."

Jerry cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. And you are certainly free to pursue whatever relationships you choose, in your private life, but as Truest Repairman you have, well, you have certain obligations. And your relationship with Abed Nadir is, no judgement here, sire, but it's not…"

Megan nodded vigorously.

"I've told you like eight times, Jerry, I'm dating Britta," Troy snapped. "Brit-tah!"

"Of course, of course," Jerry said.

"I would never dream of usurping the Consort-Royal's position," Megan added. "It would just be a political thing, and, you know, our kids…" She trailed off as Troy glared at her. "We can just put a pin in the whole question of how many kids, and what to name them, and stuff…"

"We drew up a plan, Jerry," Troy continued. "We drew up a plan to gradually scale back all of this crazy mystic bull hockey and spend the money on better things. I know you read that plan and agreed to it, because you signed it."

"Yes, sire," Jerry said miserably.

Troy sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Jerry about this. He was, after all, the fourth Vice-Dean Troy had appointed in as many months, and the first who had promised not to bullshit him or ignore his demands for fiscal responsibility and the AC Repair school acting like a normal school. "So why is this harvest festival just now coming to my attention?"

"It's kind of a funny story," said Jerry. "You remember the Reign of Terror last spring…"

* * *

Jeff and Annie Friday spent together in his apartment.

This wasn't the usual MO, not that they'd been together long enough for there to be a usual MO. Barely three weeks had passed since the day he'd found her in the Historiography classroom and they'd finally happened. Since then Jeff and Annie had spent several days together, but always in elaborate multistage date events Annie seemed to enjoy planning. Or maybe these were plans she'd made many years ago, Date Ideas With Boyfriend To Be Named Later, and her excitement came from finally being able to drive four hours to pick apples and eat smoked turkey sandwiches on a chilly picnic table, plus another four-hour drive back. A trudge through a museum looking at historic antique chairs and tables, interrupted by a cheap lunch and followed by a nice dinner. A trip to the Denver aquarium, which Annie hadn't visited since elementary school and Jeff had never been to. A tour of a local whiskey distillery with tasting… that one had been fun, admittedly. Actually, though only the distillery tour was something he might have thought to do himself, they were all fun. Maybe not the apple picking; there were perfectly good apples available in nearby stores. Better, even, than the end-of-season dregs they'd found. But the drive had been fun, and even at the furniture museum, at worst he could turn and watch her admire a dining chair that some famous chair designer in the 20s had built for somebody's yacht. Dating Annie Edison was, in more than one sense, exhausting; she never just wanted to hide away from the world, snuggle up on a sofa together and watch television.

But when they woke up that morning she suggested blowing off the hike he'd agreed to as a compromise between braving the malls on the busiest shopping day of the year and  _not_  braving the malls on the busiest shopping day of the year. He could tell she was still rattled from her mother's sudden appearance the night before, but he was selfish enough to simply accept her pitch and keep her in bed. Plus it was wet. So it wasn't until relatively late in the morning, after the threat of a cold rainy-day hike had passed, that he questioned her on her anti-leaving the house, pro-watching- _the-West-Wing_  policies.

Annie sat on her feet in yoga pants and t-shirt under a sweatshirt she'd borrowed from him, sipping a cup of coffee. "You've watched all this, right?" she asked him, halfway through the third episode of the first season.

Jeff shook his head. "Just the first five seasons. There's two more I haven't seen."

She paused the show. "Do the blonde woman and her boss eventually couple up? They look like they're going to eventually couple up."

He shook his head again. "Not in the first five seasons. I think they do at the end, though."

"Mmm. Like, six, seven years? I hate it when that kind of thing gets dragged out way past the point of plausibility. Get together or move on, people." Annie moved to un-pause the show, but Jeff stopped her. "Hey!" she protested. "A man just explained how government works to a woman. I need the counterbalancing scene of a woman explaining how emotions work to a man!"

"I understand and agree with you," Jeff said. "Right now I've been reminded that men are more analytical than women but I'm not sure whether women are better at nurturing." He paused. "Eventually the show stops doing that. But, uh, you mind telling me why we're here, instead of out braving Black Friday or marching through mud somewhere?"

Annie looked coolly at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "Oh, you know, it's pretty bad outside. Nasty weather. I mean, it's not raining right this second, but I don't trust that sky. You want to order pizza?" she asked suddenly.

"You're changing the subject."

"I'm not! I'm just thinking ahead. If we want a pizza, we should order it now. There's bound to be a bunch of people home today who'll be ordering in. You know Black Friday is the day retailers start to turn a profit for the fiscal year? Big shopping day, glad we aren't out there, I mean, who would we be buying things for? Abed?"

"Annie…"

"Have you tried to shop for Abed? Abed just buys whatever he wants for himself. He's so hard to shop for. You remember his birthday party, we all went in on the briefcase. That was a fun time. Hard to believe it was getting close to two years ago."

"Annie."

"What were we talking about? Pfft, who can remember?" Annie shrugged flippantly. "I should start the episode again. I want to see who wins the argument between the President and the guy who isn't the President. Be thinking about pizza toppings, though."

She un-paused the episode, but Jeff snatched up the remote and re-paused it. "You want to talk about your mother?" he asked.

"What?" Her eyes widened slightly. "Who was talking about Mother? Why would we talk about her? She's just coming over for dinner on Monday, and the apartment will be a mess because Troy and Abed are probably turning the living room into a ball pit right now…"

"Britta's probably there," Jeff offered.

"A ball pit that reeks of pot. Mother will love that. I mean, she'll love whatever. She's just an unconditional approval machine." Annie's shoulders slumped. "God, what am I doing here? I haven't picked out a menu, I haven't washed the windows or gotten rid of the ratty blankets… I should go get ready."

"Uh. Hmm. Counter-proposal," Jeff said. "You stay here for the rest of the day and we order pizza. Tomorrow we head to your apartment and you can make a bunch of lists, and we'll do things on them. Sunday…"

"Sunday's no good," Annie interjected. "We have brunch with your mother."

"Sunday we have brunch with my mother, and then afterwards a whole afternoon and evening to… do whatever." The sight of Annie in his old sweatshirt, just casually lounging, was an inspiring one, after all. Provided he could talk her around this crazy.

She scoffed. "Okay, well, that's what I was about to do, Gerard Depardieu, but then you stopped me."

"I know." Jeff nodded. "I stopped you because… you know she doesn't matter. What she thinks, doesn't matter. She cut you off and abandoned you, so she doesn't get any of the credit for how well you've turned out since then. You're brilliant, loving, unbearably sexy… you're my favorite person."

She smiled shyly. "Well, thank you. But you know she hates you, too."

"What?" Jeff was affronted.

"She said you were too old for me, lazy, and a liar… she called you a junkyard dog at one point." Annie shifted around so she was leaning up against Jeff, her head resting on his shoulder.

"When?"

"Last night." She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "You were there."

Jeff shook his head. "She didn't say any of that. She was really Minnesota nice, but I'm pretty sure I notice when I'm called a liar."

"It was the way she said things. You don't know her like I do. She has this way of making you feel about an inch tall."

Jeff grunted.

Annie let out a long sigh. "And you can't lie to her. She always knows. She always knows best."

 _Like mother, like daughter,_ he thought, but Jeff wasn't so foolish as to say that. Instead he said "You make her sound like a supernatural monster. And believe me, I understand…"

"Oh, come on." Annie sat up and glared at him. "Your mother is just falling over herself to love and support you. To love and support me, just from spillover!"

"My father walked out on us when I was eight!"

"Yeah, well, my mother stuck around and spent my whole puberty criticizing me!"

"Right, fine, everybody's a winner in the terrible parent olympics." Jeff scowled, as the conversation wasn't going the direction he'd hoped for. He tried again. "What I'm saying is, she doesn't deserve the attention you're giving her by letting her make you feel bad. That's power that you're choosing to give her. I see how much she rattles you, and it's just… she doesn't deserve to be able to do that to you."

"Maybe not," Annie said slowly, "but that's where we are. She's still my mother. I want to impress her. I don't think I ever have, but I want to. I don't want to cancel dinner, or fake a broken arm or something to get out of it. That's not going to earn her respect."

"You don't need to… okay. Then, different strategy. Monday night you throw a dinner party. Fancy, high-end, Shirley does cooking, Troy and Abed are on best behavior, Pierce wears a nice suit and talks about Eartha Kitt, Britta stays home…"

That got him a brief chuckle and a thawing of Annie's chilly expression.

"Full-court impress-Sadie-Parker press. We get the dean to come, and talk about how you're valedictorian…"

"Greendale doesn't have a valedictorian," Annie pointed out.

He shrugged. "I suspect the dean doesn't know that. Do you know any other classy people willing to endorse and/or lie for you?"

"Just you." Annie stood there, watching him, a relieved sort of smile on her face.

"That's…" Jeff counted on his fingers. "Nine people, counting Britta. Put the leaf in your dining room table and you can seat eight."

Annie shook her head. "The table is Troy's. I don't think we have the leaf."

"No problem, we do it like Shirley did and have two tables. Grab a card table and a tablecloth, so six at the dining room table and room for four at the card table… which of your professors is most likely to gush about how amazing you are? We recruit them."

"I don't know if…"

"Please. They work at Greendale; they'll do it for the free meal. How about the model UN guy, name sounds like Clitoris?" Jeff cocked his head at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing." She played with her hair and glanced down at the floor. "It's just… this right here is more effort than I've seen you make without me prodding you… ever."

"Well, normally you don't give me the chance to act without you prodding me."

Annie crossed her arms, smiling slightly. "I should hold off on it more often, I guess. Thanks."

Jeff had his phone out.

**JEFF to ANNIE, TROY, ABED, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, BRITTA, 1114:**

**Calling a meeting. Six o'clock, my place. This is literally the first meeting I've called in four years so I hope you all realize this must be urgent.**

**ANNIE to JEFF, TROY, ABED, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, BRITTA, 1115:**

**Six o'clock! [Sunglasses emoji] [Smiling emoji]**

He glanced up.

"They don't need to know I'm here," Annie said, a little defensively. "And if I didn't respond they might wonder what was up, if we'd had a fight or something."

Jeff nodded warily.

**ABED to TROY, ANNIE, BRITTA, SHIRLEY, PIERCE, JEFF, 1116:**

**Ok**

**ABED to JEFF, 1117:**

**Is Annie okay? Is she with you?**

Jeff considered how to respond. Annie snorted, and held up her phone for Jeff to see.

**ABED to ANNIE, 1116:**

**I thought you stayed at Jeff's last night. Are you okay?**

Annie texted Abed back as Jeff sat back down on the couch. "Why six?" she asked.

"One, people may be in the middle of things. It is the biggest shopping day of the year. Two, nothing's happening until Monday, so there's no reason to foment a sense of crisis. Three, I haven't given up hope of keeping you here all day."

She bobbed her head in the embarrassed/pleased way she sometimes did when he complimented her. "Well, thank you, again," Annie said, sitting down next to him. "Although, I've got to tell you, I'm not really a marathoning whole seasons of TV kind of girl."

"That's okay," Jeff said, "I'm sure we can fill the time somehow."


	5. Watergate and Maternity Act 2

WATERGATE AND MATERNITY

ACT TWO

* * *

"More mead?" offered the man in the weird jester costume. He held up a glass carafe hopefully.

"No thanks," Britta said. "I'm good." She lifted her goblet, to remind him she still had it and that she'd taken only one small sip of the stuff.

"I know what you're thinking." Troy, sitting next to her, sounded as tired as he ever had. "I'm weaning the AC Repair Annex off of all this stuff, but, you know, they really enjoy it, and it's basically Teddy's pension."

"Teddy?" Britta asked.

Troy tilted his head to indicate the weird mead-jester.

"Oh. No, it's cool," she assured him. "I was mostly trying to remember whether mead has any alcohol in it or not."

"It's like wine." Troy was staring at something over her shoulder. She started to turn, to see what it was, and he cleared his throat. "Okay, well. This is my domain," he said, a little awkwardly, as he gestured around the room.

The grand hall of the AC Repair Annex had actually been somewhat disappointing. Troy had made it sound like some kind of massive assembly chamber, with rows of seats and elaborate banners. And it was, more or less. But it was also a lot more similar to the Greendale cafeteria than Britta had expected. A large folding screen blocked access to whatever was in the place of the lunch counter and kitchen. On it were emblazoned diagrams Britta presumed to contain all the secrets of air conditioners, whatever they were.

When Britta had been five or six, seven at the most, she'd asked her mother how the air conditioner worked. Her mother hadn't known, but rather than admit that ignorance she'd claimed that the unit contained tiny devices inside that were just like the heating elements on their electric range, except smaller and wired backwards so they got cold instead of hot. She'd also told Britta that the bristles on the vacuum cleaner were like a fan that blew dust up into the hose of the machine, that light bulbs had tiny candleflames in them that burned electricity, and that the phases of the moon resulted from the moon's being half white, half black, and turning slowly on its axis.

Britta had never done well in science class.

Still, she liked wine, so she tried the mead again, this time not as a replacement for coffee (it being before noon) but as a substitute for the beer she wasn't drinking (it being before noon).

In that context it wasn't that bad, actually. She took another, longer drink — a quaff, really, given it was mead in a goblet. Teddy the mead-clown topped her off immediately, which was nice. Britta took another sip and realized Troy had been waiting for her to respond. "Your domain, right." She nodded. "It's very nice," Britta added, less for Troy's benefit than for the half-dozen  _Gormenghast_  refugees who had crowded around them.

That must have been the right thing to say, as the lead Gormenghastie clapped his hands together with joy. "Thank you, Consort-Royal," he crooned, genuflecting before her. "Now, as it pleases you, we begin the parade of choices."

Britta glanced at Troy. He shrugged and said "Okay, fine, but I'm cutting you off right at noon, okay? You've got twenty minutes, Jerry."

The lead Gormenghastie, Jerry, flinched. "Sire, Troy, we've got it down to a lean forty, but that's at the bone as it is."

"You want to not do it at all?" Troy asked him bluntly. Seeing the response of the courtiers around them, he sighed. "I'm sorry, but, c'mon. We've talked about this."

"Well then. Without further ado," Jerry said, straightening up, "I present to you the parade of options!" He gestured grandly towards the large screen at the back of the hall.

There was a pause, during which time Troy and Britta exchanged apologetic and questioning glances, respectively. Then someone started baroque music playing on a boombox somewhere behind them, and a woman stepped out from behind the screen.

Like the Gormenghasties, she wore a blue worksuit, but hers had been tailored into… something, Britta wasn't sure what. It was suggestive of a cocktail dress, with a sort of off-the-shoulder top, and the legs had been hemmed up to make a kind of jumper. Even without the aluminum foil trim, she would have looked ridiculous.

She seemed to know it, too, judging from the self-conscious way she sashayed up the hall's central aisle. When she reached the front, she stopped, and smiled nervously at Britta and Troy and Britta again. "My name is Megan Berkowitz. I'm a third-year Contracting major, and the oldest of six children. If selected, I will do my best to honor the principles the Air Conditioning Repair School was founded on. Thank you."

Megan paused, as though hoping Britta would applaud, or say something, but before Britta reacted she nodded tightly and stepped to one side of the aisle.

Another woman emerged from the screen. Like Megan, she wore a modified worksuit, but in her case the modifications could be summed up as "slits." She marched to the front of the hall with the confidence of a runway model, and smiled broadly. "My name is Stella Morris, and I'm a senior majoring in Termite Inspection."

"Stella," Troy whispered to himself. "I knew it rhymed with Bella."

"I love America and Greendale. I give excellent backrubs and I consider myself bisexual," Stella continued blithely. She smiled again, making direct eye contact with Britta. "Thank you." Stella moved to stand next to Megan.

The third woman, wearing a one-piece bathing suit and high heels, was someone Britta recognized. "My name is Quendra Martin and I was told this counts as a biochemistry lab credit?" She scanned the group. "Hi Britta!" Quendra said, when she spotted her, and waved. "I didn't know you were doing tryouts! I guess I should have, I mean you are…"

Jerry stepped over to Quendra and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was, it caused Quendra to turn beet red. "Oh, jeez, sorry. I didn't mean any disrepect, ma'am." She curtsied at Britta. "Whatever you need, just…" She broke off as Jerry cleared his throat. "Thank you," Quendra said tightly and minced to stand next to Stella.

A fourth woman, who appeared to be dressed like Disney Princess Jasmine if Disney Princess Jasmine were a plumber, had already emerged from behind the screen, but Britta had had enough. "Whoa, okay? Whoa," she said. "Troy, what is this?"

Troy didn't meet her gaze, instead staring at his mead-goblet. "I dunno," he said. "Parade of options, I guess."

"Jerry?"

Britta turned to Troy's aide-de-camp, who fixed his attention squarely on, also, Troy's mead goblet. He said nothing.

"Eugh. Quendra, what is this?"

Quendra glanced at Jerry nervously. "I really need the biochemistry credit…"

"Quendra!" Britta snapped.

"Yes ma'am," Quendra said quickly.

"You said tryouts. What is this a tryout for? Don't look at Jerry, look at me. Look at me."

"It's to become the Truest Repairman's conqubine." Quendra  _almost_  pronounced concubine correctly. She glanced again at Jerry. "He said you were…"

Britta turned to Troy, who was looking as uncomfortable as she'd ever seen him (good!). "What is this, Troy? This whole AC Repair thing has totally gone to your head if you think I'm going to be in a harem again. Not for you, not for anybody! I can't believe you'd even think for a second…"

"In my defense," Troy said slowly, "I feel like this is not a situation most guys would be able to navigate any better. Also, it's basically purely ceremonial. No touching, no nothing."

"Unless you want to!" called out Stella. "Either of you! I'll touch or be touched!"

"You're not helping, Stella!" Troy snapped.

"Hey, I was told no touching!" Quendra raised her hands. "No touching and no nudity!"

Troy smiled sheepishly at Britta. "See, it's just this…" he began, obviously trying to talk his way out of it.

Britta cut him off; she wasn't having any of that. "Quiet, you. Quendra," she said, turning to her, "what exactly were you told that made you think that it was a smart move to put on a bathing suit and high heels and do whatever the hell this is?"

"A biochemistry lab credit," Quendra said patiently. "Like I said."

"If I might say one thing," Jerry said.

"Shush and no," Britta told him. She addressed Quendra gain. "Okay, yeah, but what exactly did Jerry say you had to do for the credit?"

Quendra shrugged. "Win this, like, beauty pageant thing, and then there's a little ceremony where I get named the official conqubine of the Truest Repairman and his Consort-Royal… that's you, I guess?"

"For the moment, anyway." Britta narrowed her eyes at Troy.

"And then at the October Festival, which is weird name for it because it's at the start of December, but I guess it got delayed this year? I wear a dress with all these flowers on it, and there's like a skit or magic trick where they lock me in a big wicker head and light it on fire, but I don't actually get burned to death because they don't actually lock me in and they don't actually light it on fire?"

"Oh, no, we do light it on fire," Jerry interjected. "But yeah, she'll be safely out of it first."

"Why?" Britta asked.

Jerry shook his head as if it were self-evident. "So she doesn't die, dummy. I'm sorry," he said quickly, "The Truest Repairman, I mean, Troy has been calling people dummy, and it's kind of caught on."

"Duh doy!" Britta growled. "I mean, why light anything on fire?"

"Oh, I know that one," Troy said. "To please the spirits of the ancient repairmen and repairwomen, and guarantee a Halloween free from candy with razor blades and stuff like that. It's basically Halloween safety."

"Halloween was more than a month ago," Britta pointed out.

"There have been some delays," Jerry conceded. "The wicker Richard Nixon head was discovered this past spring and altered halfway through construction to more closely resemble Chang. We didn't think we were going to get to do it at all this year, but sometimes the stars align."

"So it's just this one stupid ceremony?" Britta asked. "The whole 'concubine' thing isn't… a thing?"

"I talked them down a ways," Troy explained. "Originally the pitch was… you don't want to know what it was."

"I can guess," Britta said, eyeing Stella.

"I thought you would think this was a fun surprise," Troy said apologetically. "I'm not really sure why I thought that, now that I think about it. I guess if you surprised me with an impromptu beauty pageant to select a woman to become our commonly-held concubine, I'd think it was a really nice surprise, so…" He sighed. "In some ways you and I are very different people."

Quendra raised her hand. "Excuse me, but am I still getting the lab credit?"

"Only if he picks you," Jerry told her. "Sorry, I mean only if  _they_  pick you." He shot Britta a sour look.

"I don't see what this has to do with air conditioning," muttered Troy to Britta, then raised his voice. "Quendra, you want the credit? It's yours."

There was an incredulous gasp from the direction of Stella, who seemed to have really misread the room. "What about the talent competition?" Everyone ignored her.

"Well, we do have seventeen other candidates to get through," said Jerry.

"Nope." Britta shook her head and quaffed her mead, then stood up. "The Truest Repairman has spoken, and now we're going to lunch. Ooh, don't mind if I do," she added as the mead-clown refilled her goblet. "Teddy, you're doing a great job, don't ever change."

* * *

Dinner was scheduled for seven, but everyone was supposed to convene at the apartment at six, to review the plan and run last-minute preparations.

Shirley Bennett: Came home early with Annie, immediately put casserole made the night before into oven. Cut vegetables for salad. Promised not to suggest that Sadie Parker-Edison's problems could all be addressed, much less resolved, through baptism.

Abed Nadir: Arrived at the apartment a few minutes after Shirley and Annie. Entrusted with the vacuum cleaner, instructed to run it over every inch of Sadie-accessible carpet. Permitted to imagine the evening as an elaborate  _Ocean's Eleven_ -type caper.

Troy Barnes: Asked to not make any new messes.

Britta Perry: Directed to entertain Troy in the privacy of his bedroom where any new messes would not spill over into the rest of the apartment. Pet-fur roller run discreetly over her clothes.

Pierce Hawthorne: Offer to supply wine and spirits graciously accepted. Offer to DJ very reluctantly accepted. Volunteered for emergency trip to store to buy Paul Simon CDs, despite existence of iTunes and many other services.

Jeff Winger: Collected Dean Craig Pelton and Professor Martin Cligoris. Briefed them on importance of creating good impression. Apologized to Professor Cligoris for use of strong language during briefing. Led efforts to comfort, reassure Annie.

Annie Edison: Set dining room table and card table. Cleaned bathroom and kitchen (working around Shirley as necessary). Fretted.

At five to seven, Annie, Jeff, Shirley, Pierce, Abed, Craig, and Martin sat quietly on the living room's chairs and sofa, with three glasses of wine and three glasses of scotch distributed among them (Abed declined alcohol while he was on a caper). Britta and Troy lounged nearby, sitting at the card table. No one spoke for several seconds.

"That smells delicious, Shirley," the dean offered, after the silence had become unbearable (Pierce had insisted no music be played until Sadie had arrived).

"Thank you," Shirley said brightly. She glanced at Annie. "Although Annie deserves some of the credit."

"Really?" The dean craned his neck towards the kitchen, although Annie sat just a few feet away from him. "I didn't know you cooked, Annie."

"I don't, really," said Annie.

"More than Abed or Troy, definitely," offered Britta.

"Okay, so, she doesn't generally do a lot of cooking, it's true," Jeff declared. "But Annie and Shirley worked together yesterday to make the casserole, which Shirley oversaw the actual cooking of, today."

Annie cleared her throat. "Shirley did almost everything, though."

"No!" Jeff raised a finger as though lecturing. "You helped. If anyone asks… and we all know who I mean by anyone… Annie helped." He shot a meaningful glare around the group.

Martin Cligoris tilted his head. "I don't know who you mean by anyone. Do you mean Annie's mother?"

"Try to keep up, Martin," the dean said with a sniff.

"I said it was a bad idea to bring him in," said Abed. "I don't think we can trust him. We can do this job without him. We should have gotten Duncan for this."

Jeff shook his head. "He wasn't available this week."

Martin stammered a bit. "I was told all I need to do was show up and be polite to Annie's mother and I get a free meal out of it. And wine," he added, sipping from his glass.

"Pop quiz, hotshot," said Pierce suddenly. "Who's Annie?"

Martin blinked, and pointed towards her.

Annie held up her hands, and tried to calm everyone down. "This really isn't —"

"Second question!" barked Pierce. "Give me three adjectives that you'd use to describe her to her mother!"

"Um." Martin blinked, nonplussed. "Dedicated, intelligent… driven?"

"Uhh!" Pierce made a sound not unlike a buzzer. "Wrong! Dedicated and driven are the same thing! I agree with Aybed. This isn't amateur hour."

"You guys," said Annie, "you're doing that thing where we turn on an outsider without any provocation. Don't Todd Professor Cligoris!"

Britta perked up. "Is Todd's name a verb now?"

"Don't worry," Troy assured her. "You're still special." He patted her on the back.

"I don't understand what's happening," complained Martin.

Pierce rose to his feet. "Troy, Jeff, help me lock Cligoris in Troy's room."

"Why my room?" Troy asked. "I got all my stuff in there!"

Jeff reached over and pulled Pierce back down into his seat. "We're not doing that. Professor Cligoris will be allowed to leave quietly."

"Jeff!" hissed Annie.

"Or he can stay," Jeff continued. He would have said more, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Okay, everybody act natural!"

"You got lucky," Pierce told Martin coldly.

Acting natural did not come easily to the group. Shirley rushed to the kitchen as Annie hurried to answer the door. Troy stared at his hands in confusion.

"What do I usually do with my hands?" he asked no one in particular. "I don't sit with them in my pockets, I don't let them hang… do I fold them in my lap?" He assumed a rapid series of increasingly strained poses, his fingers interwoven or not, legs crossed or not.

Annie checked the time: not quite seven.  _Now or never_ , she thought. Actually the idea of not opening the door, and just never seeing Sadie again, was undeniably appealing. Still, she opened the door.

It would have been appropriate if it hadn't been her mother, if it were a police officer or a confused pizza-delivery man, or Chang. But no. Sadie Parker-Edison, in a suit, hair styled for the occasion, and holding a bottle of wine. "Hello, Annie," she said, smiling. "I was beginning to worry I had the wrong day or time or address."

By sheer effort of will, Annie resisted the urge to stare at her feet and mumble. "No, this is us and here and now… come in, come in, please. Can I get your coat?"

"Of course," Sadie replied. "And I brought a bottle of wine."

Annie snatched the bottle from Sadie and turned to quickly set it down. The closest possible receptacle turned out to be not a tabletop but Jeff's hands — he had come up behind her.

"Hello, Sadie," he said. "You're looking well."

"Oh, you flatterer."  _Your boyfriend is still a liar._ Sadie slipped off her coat and handed it to Annie. "I didn't realize you were having so many people over," she said, seeing the crowd behind Jeff and Annie. "I should have brought more wine."  _Your friends are, after all, a collection of alcoholics_. _Little wonder, given your own weakness and addiction._

Annie winced, and tried to shut that voice out. "Not at all," she said, hanging the coat in the hall closet and cursing her lack of foresight and failure to clean out the filthy, squalid closet. "Please, I'd like you to meet everyone…"


	6. Watergate and Maternity Act 3

WATERGATE AND MATERNITY

ACT THREE

* * *

By quarter past seven, Abed and Troy had retreated to Troy's room. Martin Cligoris had remembered a prior engagement, so sorry, Annie was a wonderful student and a credit to Greendale, got to go. Britta was pinned down on the sofa, Sadie next to her and blocking the relative safety of the bedroom. Jeff stood in the kitchen, grimly knocking back more scotch than was probably wise, passing the bottle back and forth with Shirley as they both worked up the courage to return to the fray. Annie, Pierce, and the dean were scattered around the sitting area. Pierce and the dean were engaged in a spirited discussion about whether Greendale Community College's problems stemmed from terrible management or from lack of funding.

"So Ann," Sadie said brightly, as though she weren't the center of a psychic maelstrom ripping the apartment apart, "a little bird tells me you're taking the LSAT next week."

Annie had been on guard for any of a dozen different conversational gambits, but this hadn't been among them. "Yes," she said cautiously. Part of her wondered how her mother had found out about this. Even discounting Sadie's supernatural powers (up until the age of six Annie had seriously believed her mother could and did work black magic), there were so many possibilities.

"Tell me, what are your plans? I remember a few years ago you had your mind made up: Saint Luke's or bust." Sadie gestured grandly, then leaned in. "Do you think you need more time in school before you'll be ready to face the challenges of the real world? Or have you often dreamed of the law, lawyers, a lawyer…?"

"I've reconsidered hospital administration." Annie chose her words carefully. "Law school can lead to several possible paths…"

"But surely you have one in mind." Sadie glanced at Britta, who was gamely trying to a) not cry despite what Sadie had said to her six minutes previously and b) look like someone who was paying attention to, and participating in, the conversation. "Or am I unreasonable in my expectations?"

"No, I'm not just… I do have a plan," Annie stammered. She wanted badly to avoid mentioning the FBI; on some level she was certain her mother would supply a devastating series of explanations as to why it was absurd and childish to want to become an FBI agent.

* * *

SOME OF THE THINGS SADIE PARKER-EDISON TOLD HER DAUGHTER IT WAS ABSURD AND CHILDISH TO WANT:

_A pony_

_Her parents to not divorce and indeed to reconcile_

_Friends among her elementary, junior high, and high school peers_

_Confidence to deal with stress without pharmaceutical assistance_

_Pizza_

_A bachelor's degree in history, biology, or English, followed by an advanced degree in law, medicine, or journalism_

_A cell phone her mother couldn't access remotely_

_To quit cheerleading after the team bus 'forgot' her at a Taco Bell_

_Swimming lessons_

_High-heeled shoes_

_Joy_

* * *

SOME OF THE THINGS SADIE PARKER-EDISON TOLD HER DAUGHTER IT WAS MATURE AND APPROPRIATE TO WANT:

_Braces_

_Magnets (Sadie Parker-Edison believed firmly in the healing power of magnets)_

_Being slightly underweight_

_A prescription for Adderall_

_Brunch_

_A bachelor's degree in business, hospital administration, sociology or economics, potentially followed by an MBA._

_An administrative position at a hospital where she would be in position to meet an attractive and intelligent doctor_

_Marriage to said doctor, 2.3 children, and a large house someone else is paid to clean_

_Control_

* * *

"Oh, please! I would love to hear it." Sadie's tone was so patronizing that even the dean trailed off. "Tell me, exactly what do you think you're going to do? How do you intend to move forward from your current," she paused to glance meaningfully around the apartment, "situation?"

"Well, I think one thing we can all agree on is that our Annie is not someone to bet against." Jeff sat down on the sofa next to Annie's mother, eyes slightly wild. "Craig?"

The dean blinked. "Yes, Jeffrey?" he asked, then seemed to realize that Jeff wanted him to expound on Annie's virtues. "I mean, of course. Annie Edison is, I hope you don't mind me saying Annie, I don't want to put you on the spot but really everyone here, including Martin who left, everyone here is absolutely of one mind when it comes to…" He lost his train of thought. "I'm sure Martin had a good reason for leaving," he said suddenly. "Some kind of crisis. We do take, um, crises very seriously at Greendale, isn't that right?" Panicking, the dean punted. "Pierce?"

Pierce, who had been taking a slow sip of scotch, coughed at the sound of his name. "Uh, yes, absolutely. I'm on the Greendale board, and, uh, definitely we pay close attention to the needs of the study body, and, uh…"

Sadie cut Pierce off with nothing more than a sharp inhalation of breath. "I'm sure you do absolutely fine work, but that doesn't address my question to Ann. Unless I misunderstand?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I want to keep my options open…" Annie began.

"And which options would those be, exactly?" Sadie asked, almost laughing. "Are you thinking of becoming a criminal defense attorney? Tax law? Real estate law? Corporate litigation? Environmental? That's a very hot specialty nowadays, I'm led to believe."

"No, Mother," Annie said firmly, trying not to sound agitated. "Law school can lead into, um…" She fumbled for words that wouldn't give her mother a chance to mock the idea of Special Agent Annie Edison, FBI. "Into a variety of governmental positions…"

Sadie snapped her fingers and straightened up triumphantly. "Politics! You plan on running for office, and you wanted to surprise me. But I've gone and spoiled your game by guessing it. What do I win?"

"I'm not planning on running for office…"

"Of course, of course," Sadie cooed. "I remember when you ran for vice-president of the stamp club in sixth grade, but what you lack in poise and charisma you can more than make up for with dedication and preparation."

"No, it's not that," Annie tried.

"And it's true that your embarrassing and misspent youth is just that," Sadie continued, "but on a small enough stage no one will care enough to bother to dig up the skeletons in your closet…"

And with that, Annie snapped. "No, mother, I'm not going to run for office! I want to go to law school because it's the quickest route into the FBI!"

Shirley picked that moment to emerge from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, if everyone will…" She trailed off, seeing the aghast looks on various faces.

Sadie emitted a low, mordant chuckle. "Oh, Ann, you're not serious. The FBI? Are you twelve? I want to be proud of you, I do! I want that so much, but you make it so, so difficult."

There was a long, awkward silence.

Jeff was the first to break it. "Apologize to Annie." he said quietly.

Sadie laughed, as though Jeff were a hilarious clown. "I beg your pardon?"

"Jeff, you don't need to —" Annie started, but he cut her off with an angry grunt.

"No, I think I do. For the last four years you've been nothing to Annie except a bad memory. You weren't there when she was in rehab, or when she was living in a terrible neighborhood above Dildopolis, which was exactly the kind of place it sounds like. Or any of the times she picked herself up off the mat and kept going long after anyone else would have given up. Now, after she's almost made it through Greendale, when she's moving on to better things, you come in… just to order her not to go to law school, of all things? Apologize!"

"Please, Mr. Winger." Sadie's tone was pure condescension. "I'm her mother… I'm your mother, Ann," she said, turning to her daughter. "I love you and I will always love you, no matter what choices you make, or how you try to hurt me and shut me out of your life, or whatever your so-called friends say to insult me. Because I'm your family."

"No." Annie slowly shook her head. "No, you're… these people are my family. They spent all weekend helping me. They came here tonight to support me, because I needed it, because of you. They didn't ask any questions. Except 'what time do you need me,' and 'what should I bring,' and stuff like that, which, that's not the same. They're all here for moral support, and… and Shirley cooked. It was all Shirley…."

"I had assumed that," Sadie responded coldly.

At some point in there Annie had risen to her feet. "And it was for what? To impress you? I'm graduating in the spring, with a bachelor's degree that might not be the greatest, but it's mine and I earned it, with fake rockets, and pottery, and a class on ladders…" Annie realized she was losing the thread of her argument, and drove the point home. "But nothing I could do would be good enough. Because no matter what I do, no matter how much you bully me or what you say or what I say that I think you want to hear, I'll still be the daughter who walked out instead of letting you run my life a moment longer."

Sadie smirked, the way Annie knew she did when she felt insulted. "Sweetie, you're making a scene," she said gently, sipping her wine.

"No, I'm not. Or if I am, I don't care, because I'm among people who aren't going to judge me for it. I'm with my family."

Annie's mother glanced around the room. "I see. I remember being your age, you know," she said, rising. "Thought I knew everything, dropped out of college when your father got me pregnant without consulting me. A man I didn't even like, but whom I tried to love, because your grandmother hated him so much." She drained her wineglass, and set it neatly on a coaster on the coffee table. "I'd hoped I could spare you my mistakes, but I see you're determined to repeat them. Best of luck." She stepped around the sofa, heading to the apartment door. Eight pairs of eyes watched her (Troy and Abed having emerged from Troy's room to investigate the hubbub). "I'm sure you'll need it, given your obstinance and insistence on adhering to bad plans," Sadie added, as she took her coat from the closet.

At the door she turned, and surveyed the group. "It was lovely meeting you all," she said, "although I'm sure Ann will convince you otherwise. I hope we can do this again someday soon."

The square echo of the door closing behind Sadie Parker-Edison reverberated in Annie's ears.

For a moment no one said anything.

"Annie?" Shirley sounded timid. "You did help, for what it's worth." This prompted a chorus of agreement, although not everyone sounded entirely clear on what it was they were agreeing on.

"Of course, thank you so much, Shirley." Annie straightened up and smiled a grateful smile. "You guys are the best. You guys!" She held out her arms, first for Jeff, then Shirley, then Troy and Britta and Abed and Pierce and the dean, who hadn't left.

"I thought this would be funny, or at least charming, like an episode of  _Gilmore Girls_ ," said Abed to no one in particular, from within the slightly unwieldy group hug. "Instead it was sad and also life-affirming, like a bad episode of  _Gilmore Girls_."

* * *

Tuesday morning found Troy ensconced in the great hall of the AC Repair Annex, in a box seat that had been constructed for the occasion. Britta sat to his right, on a padded bench inscribed with about twenty images of big-eyed kittens. She'd complained, but the carpenter's-assistant majors who'd thrown the bench together over the weekend had meant well. Plus Teddy the Mead-Poursman was on hand to keep her topped off. Troy had questioned Britta's decision to start drinking so early in the day, but she'd retorted that the mead was lower in actual alcohol content than all but the most non-alcoholic of beers, and if it helped her get through this AC Repair Annex bull hockey, surely that was worth it.

Troy wasn't sure that the mead was appreciably low in alcohol content, but he had to concede the second point.

Abed sat at Troy's left, on the traditional apple-crate that was the traditional throne of the Repairman's bride, concubine, mistress, or special lady-friend. Troy had tried to get him to swap seats with Britta, when they'd come in, but Britta had pointed out that the kitten bench had her name literally carved in the back in Gothic lettering.

Vice-Dean Jerry, seated at Abed's left, rubbed his hands in anticipation. "This year's harvest rite is going to be the best we've ever done, I think! The extra six weeks of prep time is really going to pay off, you'll see," he said to Troy.

"Cool," said Troy. He glanced down the box. On Britta's other side were five more seats. "Who are the extra seats for? The ghosts of vice-deans past?"

Jerry chuckled. "Very funny joke, sire. The ghosts are seated in the Hall of Resplendent Spirits. They'll be watching on closed-circuit TV."

Troy nodded. "I'm just going to let that one go. But the other seats?"

"Those are for Greendale's board," Abed informed him. "They're traditionally invited, although they haven't attended since the catastrophic Great Fire of 1985, when over three dozen scale models of the Greendale campus were destroyed. The Annex great hall was double-booked with the Build Your Own Greendale model Greendale contest, that year."

"You know your AC Repair history!" commented an appreciative Jerry.

Abed shrugged. "It's important to Troy, so it's important to me." He took a swig from his goblet of mead. "Plus if I show up to this stuff I get free mead."

"I know, right?" Britta said.

"I don't know how you two drink that stuff," Troy muttered. "No offense, Teddy." A thought struck him. "Pierce is on the board now, isn't he?"

"Yeah," said Britta, "but I don't think he'd… oh, speak of the devil." She tilted her head in the direction of the great hall's main entrance, where Pierce had just appeared. He dashed to the royal box and dropped heavily into the seat next to Britta.

"We don't have much time," Pierce said, panting. He adjusted his necktie and took a few deep breaths.

"Mead?" offered the Mead-Poursman, thrusting a goblet towards him.

"Aah!" Pierce reacted as though Teddy shoved a dead rat in his face, shrieking and batting it away. The goblet fell on the floor of the box, spilling mead across the walkway in front of the chairs.

"My fault," Teddy said quickly, dropping to his knees and swabbing up the spill.

"Give a man some warning," grumbled Pierce. "Who wants mead at this hour? I'm not even at a Renaissance Fair!"

"Thank you!" cried Troy. "At last someone who gets it."

"Is the rest of the board coming?" Abed asked Pierce. "If they're not I think we should switch seats so that the mead-drinkers are on one side and the non-mead-drinkers are on the other."

"Oh, the rest of the board!" Pierce winced. "I almost — brace yourselves for a shock."

"What is it?" asked Abed, interested.

"What I'm about to say will chill you to your very core!"

"What?" asked Troy.

"You may have thought things weren't going to escalate, but man, you've got another think coming if that's what you think!"

"Jesus Christ, Pierce, out with it!" cried Britta.

"Hello!" cried Sadie Parker-Edison from the great hall entrance.

Pierce shuddered. "I ran to warn you. She's joined the board."

Troy's eyes widened. "No!"

"Yes!" hissed Pierce.

"How?" asked Britta.

"Carl! Richie!" Sadie called over her shoulder. The two men stumbled in behind her. They looked drunk, but no more so than usual.

"Coming!" shouted Carl, far louder than was necessary.

"Right here," said Richie, at a volume only a little closer to normal.

The three walked, staggered, and staggered, respectively, to the royal box. Sadie smiled coldly. "Hello, Abed, Troy, Britta. Vice-Dean Clayton." She nodded at Jerry before looking down at Teddy, still swabbing at her feet. "Most gracious Mead-Poursman," she intoned, "may we hear the lesson of the bees and may we quaff deep the honeydew of wisdom." She sounded like she was quoting something.

Teddy looked up, surprised. "We act on the line and we brew the potions of the queen," he replied, in the same reverent tone. "The drink, like poetry, avails all who partake."

"None for me, thanks, it's just too early," Sadie said brightly, and sat down next to Pierce. "I'm sure Carl and Richie would appreciate some, though."

As Carl and Richie took their seats, Jerry shot Troy a look that meant either  _sorry boss tradition dictates she be allowed_ or possibly  _do you want me to dispatch the electrician-assassins to murder her?_  Troy wasn't sure he had access to electrician-assassins, so went with the first interpretation and sighed heavily.

Sadie turned towards him. "Now, I've already said this to Pierce, but the three of you should hear it, too. I'm completely willing to forgive you all for the events of last night. And for my part, I regret that you had to be party to such a…" She stared into the middle distance, as though trying to find the right word. "Scene, between my daughter and myself. I'm sure she's apologized to you as well, but if not, please allow me to extend heartfelt apologies on her behalf… oh!" Sadie glanced at the front of the great hall. "They're starting."

As the giant wicker head of Richard Nixon was rolled out and the fire alarms ceremonially disabled, Sadie Parker-Edison emitted a happy sigh. "We'll get all this squared away," she said, watching Quendra (in her role as the virgin harvest sacrifice) climb in through a hatch in Nixon's right ear. One of the air conditioning repairmen hefted a torch of almost Olympic stature, and set it to the kindling.

"Don't worry, children," said Sadie as the flames climbed the wicker head of Richard Nixon. "Everything's going to be fine."


	7. Senior Seminar on Fiduciary Duty Act 1

As always, thanks to bethanyactually and amrywiol for their beta-reading and notes.

* * *

SENIOR SEMINAR ON FIDUCIARY DUTY

ACT ONE

* * *

" 'A philosopher says the following. Becoming an MBA is a sign of high potential. MBAs have, historically, enjoyed career success. Not all students who seek to become MBAs succeed. Socrates is an MBA. Therefore Socrates enjoyed career success,' " Annie read aloud. " 'Which of the following statements, if true, would most weaken the philosopher's argument?' "

Jeff's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Socrates is an MBA?"

Annie nodded without looking up. "Apparently. 'A. Socrates was awarded his MBA posthumously,' " she continued. " 'B. Career success cannot be measured objectively. C. Diploma mill schools like Greendale award MBAs to anyone that fills out the paperwork…' "

"It doesn't say Greendale." Jeff leaned over. "Does it?"

The two lounged on the couch in Annie, Abed, and Troy's apartment. Jeff had wanted to do LSAT prep at his place, but Annie had pointed out that when they were at his place very little studying tended to get done. In all probability Annie could have studied more effectively without Jeff, but then Jeff wouldn't have been there. Jeff had no plans to take the LSAT, but that hadn't stopped him from taking LSAT Prep I last semester and LSAT Prep II this semester; they were part of the block of classes Greendale required for a BA in Legal Studies, the pre-law major Jeff had eventually settled on.

"It could," Annie grumbled. "Greendale hasn't suddenly stopped being a joke of a school."

Jeff looked at her, frowning. "That doesn't sound like you. Greendale pride, right? If anyone's going to talk about the terrible nature of Greendale, it should be me!"

Annie scoffed. "You just need to graduate and then you get reinstated as a lawyer; it doesn't matter that you're getting your degree from the number one most disreputable college on the state's list of most disreputable colleges, a list that included Diplomas Online Dot Biz University and the Not-a-Scam 'School' of 'Arts' and 'Sciences,' asterisk, 'not a real school,' " she said, making finger-quotes. "Even assuming I score well on the LSAT I'll still have Greendale on my applications."

"If you want to go to law school, you have to take the LSAT," Jeff reminded her. "If you want to go to law school."

She arched her eyebrows. "It's the fastest way to the FBI Academy."

"It's  _a_  way to the FBI Academy. It's not the only way." Jeff shook his head slightly. He didn't want to have this discussion again.

"Do you think I couldn't do it?" Annie asked him bluntly. "A bunch of idiots make it through law school and become lawyers. No offense, but you used to work with them."

"Of course you can do it," Jeff said with a snort. "You can do basically anything."

"Aw," she said, looking down at the ground.

"Listen," Jeff said as though he were telling her a little-known secret, "the only reason our economic and political systems are as screwed up as they are, is that you haven't yet turned your mind to fixing them."

She laughed, and for a moment they just grinned at each other like a couple of idiots.

Jeff broke eye contact first. "But I never had much cause to regret not going to law school. It's an expensive piece of paper you'd be breaking your back for three years for."

"Well, not everyone can lie their way into the bar exam." Annie grimaced. "I thought you'd be pleased at the law school idea, you know."

He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. "I support you whatever decision you make, you know that," he said. "You don't think Greendale has been enough of an education?"

"What was I just saying, you goof?" Annie threw up her hands. "I get into law school, suddenly there's something above Greendale on my resume. I don't think anyone anywhere has ever said, 'Ooh, your degree is from Greendale Community College? I hear that's a great school!' It's more like, 'Ooh, your degree is from Greendale Community College? I'm sorry, we want someone a little more qualified for this unpaid internship at the dog food factory.' "

"Dog food factory?" repeated Jeff.

"I don't know! You know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay," Jeff admitted, "but you love Greendale. I'm pretty sure you love Greendale."

"I guess." She sighed. "I almost transferred out several times, you know."

Jeff nodded, then shook his head. "Wait, no. Several times? When? Recently?"

Annie shook her head. "The last time was right before the Old West paintball game. You remember…"

"I remember your outfit," Jeff said wistfully.

"Please." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. "That was such a frustrating week. I thought you were being a jerk… I mean, everybody was, but mostly you."

"Fair enough," Jeff said, remembering.

"I didn't go through with it, though, and then in the wave of school spirit that escalated into kissing Abed while the library was flooded with paint…"

Jeff sputtered. "Wait, what?"

"…I didn't go through with it, I said." Annie gazed into the middle distance. "I hadn't actually thought about that in, oh, not since it happened."

"Rewind and play back," Jeff said sharply. "You kissed Abed?"

Her smile broadened. "Are you jealous?"

"Kind of, yeah!" His tone suggested he was more than 'kind of' jealous.

"This was almost two years ago," she reminded him. "Earlier that same day you patted me on the head."

"It was barely a year and a half ago, and…" Jeff sighed. "I don't have a leg to stand on, here."

She shook her head. "No, you don't."

"I patted you on the head?"

She snickered a little. "Yes, you did, Vicious comma Sid."

Jeff opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Vicious comma Sid?"

"I was trying a thing and it didn't work. Never mind…" Annie hefted her LSAT prep book and scooted away from him on the couch — somehow she'd ended up all up in his personal space, in the last minute or so. "We should get back to this. I'm taking the exam the day after tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Jeff rubbed his eyes. "When will you get out?"

"Three. I'll call you and tell you how it went right after. Then we can meet at… I don't know, we'll figure it out." She shrugged. "And then Morty's Steak House for dinner! You love Morty's Steak House!" Annie smiled at him before turning back to the prep book. "Now, as I was saying. 'Becoming an MBA is a sign of high potential…' "

Jeff nodded, then started. "Wait, no. You distracted me with promises of steak and scurrilous kissing-Abed stories," he said, pointing accusingly at her. "What's with your accurate, but uncharacteristically harsh, assessment of Greendale?"

Annie scowled. "I was looking at the Sturm website," she said, referring to the Sturm School of Law, the closest and most reputable law school in the state. "And entrance requirements and selectivity and… maybe even if I'm the best student at Greendale, which I'm not anyway, technically that honor goes to someone who didn't have to take Biology 301 twice… I just don't know if a degree from Greendale is even worth getting. My mother…"

"Your mother," Jeff interrupted, "is wrong about basically everything."

"Maybe." Annie looked down at the prep book, then back up at Jeff. "I just… I thought I would be okay, you know? When I kicked her out of my life, again. And I knew that… ugh. It's just, getting confirmation that even now, years later, she still thinks I'm…" She trailed off with a heavy sigh.

"Hey." Jeff waited until she looked him in the eyes before continuing. "My Annie is the greatest person I know. You can doubt that, if you want, but I don't. And I'm always right, so it'd be foolish to disagree with me on this one."

"I know. I mean, thank you," Annie replied. "But Mother is still out there, you know? And now she's on the board. She isn't going to just give up, not after putting herself out and making the first move and letting me kick her out after…"

"Hey, hey, hey." Jeff reached over and rubbed her arm. "You got away from her," he said. "You got out, and you've been on your own, and you've done fine, better than fine. There's nothing more she can do to you." Jeff hoped that was true, at least. "It's not like the board has any real power. They let Pierce on, after all."

* * *

Noon was as early as the board ever met. In the past they'd held their meetings at the TGIFriday's, usually after eight, always with an open bar courtesy the city of Greendale. Eventually, however, the rest of the board resigned in disgust, leaving just Carl and Richie as two members of a five-seat board. With the addition of Pierce the board was able to pass motions requiring a three-fifths majority.

But Sadie Parker-Edison had upset the apple cart, by calling meetings at her lawyer's office downtown, and by failing to provide gin, bourbon, vodka, tequila, or even beer.

"The AC Repair School at least has mead," grumbled Richie as he looked around the conference room. It gleamed with the efforts of badly-paid custodial staff. A table in the corner held a tray of glasses and a pitcher of ice water, but no scotch to mix with it. The K-Cup machine in an alcove a short distance down the hall could provide coffee, but not Irish coffee. It was, in short, dullsville.

"I know, and I do apologize," Sadie Parker-Edison cooed. "I really couldn't manage any other time or place. You do understand, I hope?" Without waiting for a reply she flicked on a recorder on the table in front of her. "Greendale community college board of trustees, meeting of the sixth of December, 2012. Mercedes Ann Parker-Edison, presiding. Also present are Carl Hoffmann…"

"Here," said Carl, into the recorder.

"You can just speak normally, Carl," Sadie told him. "Richard Abnett?"

"Here."

"And Pierce Hawthorne."

"Present," declared Pierce. He glanced at the fifth attendee of the meeting: the dean, seated to Pierce's right. "As is Craig Pelton."

"Yes, thank you Pierce." Sadie dripped with condescension. "Although the first order of business must, regrettably, be to ask Dean Pelton to leave. This is a closed meeting." She stared at the dean until he cracked and dropped his head down to examine the floor; this did not take long.

"I was told, uh…" the dean mumbled.

"I'll handle this, Craig," Pierce assured him. Pierce had sat in on a lot of board meetings over the years, and wasn't about to let Annie's mother rattle him. "I move that Craig Pelton be appointed to fill the vacant seat on the board."

"Second," said Carl, raising a hand.

Sadie folded her hands on the table in front of her. "I'm afraid I can't discuss this while Mr. Pelton is present, for the obvious reasons."

"Oh, come on," complained Pierce.

"No, no, she's right," mumbled the dean. He stood and bowed slightly towards Sadie before retreating out the conference room door.

"Don't go far!" Pierce called after him.

"Well now," said Sadie, smiling. "I have to say this suggestion takes me somewhat by surprise. Is Mr. Pelton not already sufficiently challenged by his current responsibilities?"

"The board is still short a member," Pierce countered. "He's certainly qualified and the duties of the board take up only a few hours a month, as you know."

"He may be qualified," Sadie conceded. "I really couldn't say one way or the other. However I do question the notion that he's the best-qualified candidate available." Her tone softened with concern. "Likewise it seems at least possible that he would suffer a conflict of interest on a variety of relevant issues, from administrative pay to interactions with the teacher's union…"

"There isn't a teacher's union at Greendale," snapped Pierce.

"Currently, no," Sadie agreed with palpable relief. "That would doubtless be extremely disruptive to the learning process. Disputes between labor and management could have a negative impact on the education of those currently enrolled at Greendale. As one of our most prominent alums, I would think this would concern you, as well. I know Hawthorne Paper Products secured several extremely favorable union contracts under your auspices."

"That's not relevant in the slightest."  _She's trying to rattle you_ , Pierce reminded himself.  _She wants you to lose your temper and say something stupid. This is just like the bidding for the Atlanta Olympics paper-towel contract._ "Let's stick to the subject at hand."

"Of course," Sadie crooned, smiling at him. It was not a smile Pierce found comforting; when she smiled like that she resembled her daughter even more strongly than usual. "As you say, the board is currently potentially deadlocked, with four voting members. I propose the formation of a subcommittee to recruit a civic leader willing to donate his or her time, one who will not risk any exposure to conflicts of interest."

"Second," said Carl.

"We don't need to be so formal, Carl," Sadie assured him. "The quicker we get this done the quicker we can all be getting lunch in the brew pub across the street."

"Fine," said Pierce. "I volunteer to head up this subcommittee, and as the head of the subcommittee I report that Craig Pelton is a fine choice whose only conflicts of interest would stem from issues the board hasn't considered in the last ten years at least, and I nominate him to fill the empty seat."

"Second," said Carl.

Sadie said nothing for a moment. "Richard? Richie?" she asked the other board member.

"Huh?" he started, as though woken from sleep. "Sorry, I was just thinking about… a brew pub, huh?"

"Right across the street, yes," Sadie said. She reached over and covered one of Richie's hands with her own. "Soon, I promise," she told him solemnly.

"This is boring," complained Carl. "Can't we just vote already?"

Sadie chuckled like a mother indulging her favorite son. "I can see we aren't going to be spending a lot of time debating this," she said. "All right, all right. Let's vote on it. I vote yes. Pierce?"

Pierce blinked. "You vote yes?"

Sadie nodded.

"Yes, Craig should join the board?"

She nodded again.

"I vote yes, too," Pierce said, suddenly fearful.

"Carl? Richie?" Sadie asked, without breaking eye contact with Pierce.

"Yes," the two men said in unison.

"It's unanimous then," Sadie said cheerfully. She smiled warmly at Pierce. "As of the end of this meeting, Dean Pelton is on the board. Would you like to go tell him? We can take a brief break." She leaned forward and clicked the recorder off.

"Sure…" Pierce rose carefully from this chair and backed out of the room, unwilling to turn his back on Sadie Parker-Edison.  _She's in your head!_  he upbraided himself.  _Keep cool, Pierce!_

The dean was in a small waiting room at the end of the hall, reading a magazine. He looked up as Pierce entered. "Over so quickly?"

Pierce shook his head. "No… you've been elected to the board. Congratulations."

"Thank you!" the dean said sunnily, but then his face fell. "You don't seem very pleased about it. This was your idea, Pierce. The two of us against her, you said. For Annie, you said."

"I know," Pierce said. He glanced over his shoulder at the conference room. "I just… I don't know."

"Well, should I go home and change?" asked the dean.

Pierce looked at him. "What would you… never mind. No, it's not effective until the next meeting. Which is scheduled for January… I'm going to go back in there," he decided. "Wait here."

"Okay!" The dean called, as Pierce dashed back towards the conference room. He checked his bag. "You know, I could just change here," he mused.

* * *

Sadie Parker-Edison waited until she was alone in the conference room before taking a moment to collect herself. He was infuriating, this handsome idiot her daughter had latched onto as a father figure. He refused to just let her take care of things, like the other two idiots; he kept sticking his oar in. Usually men didn't like to make fools of themselves in front of her, but Pierce Hawthorne was fearless in the worst way. He argued with her, as though he didn't care about exposing his wrong opinions and erroneous beliefs. He refused to kowtow to her superior knowledge of procedure, and he insisted on bulling his way through her plans.

Fortunately she'd thought of a way to neutralize Pierce's imp Pelton. It wasn't going to be cheap or simple, but nothing worth doing was. Sadie Parker-Edison hadn't invested this much time in taking control of the Greendale Community College board only to surrender at the first sign of resistance. And if Pierce couldn't be bullied or intimidated, well, there were other ways to handle men.

When Pierce returned to the room a few moments later he found Sadie there, alone, seemingly engaged in a phone call. She held up one finger as he opened his mouth to question her.

"No," she told the phone, as though the other end were some estranged relation, rather than the speaking clock. "No, I don't care. That's not my problem… then you should have thought of that. It's not my fault if you insist on making things harder for yourself… no."

Sadie made eye contact with Pierce and rolled her eyes with a theatrical sigh.

"I accept your apology," she said a moment later. "Yes, of course. I'll see you then. Good-bye." She hung up with a sad little sigh. "Do you have children?" she asked Pierce, despite knowing full well he did not.

"Was that Annie?" Pierce asked despite himself.

Sadie looked nonplussed. "What? No. My daughter and only child is not, regrettably, currently returning my calls. Do you have children yourself, Pierce?" she asked again. According to her dossier, he did have a handful of step-children, at least one of which he felt some parental affection for.

Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Only step-children. Ex-step-children… where are Carl and Richie?"

Outwardly, Sadie remained placid, but inwardly she cursed the man's stubborn refusal to let her take control of the conversation. She tutted as she turned the recorder back on. "They just couldn't sit still. Like children, really. Said something about the bar and grill across the street. I couldn't keep them here a moment longer." She smiled helplessly, as though a silly woman like herself couldn't possibly be expected to keep up with clever men like Pierce and his kind.

"Uh huh." Pierce slowly sat down, maintaining eye contact with Sadie as he did so. Was that a flicker of interest she saw?

(For his part, Pierce wasn't sure what Sadie was playing at; was she going to come at him with a knife? Attempt erotic persuasion? Play on his sympathies by claiming to be an aggrieved parent suffering the sharper tooth of Annie's rejection? Of those possibilities he would definitely have preferred erotic persuasion. Maybe Edison women liked older men, he thought with some hope.)

"But I did get their signatures on these." Sadie pulled a pair of packets from her briefcase and spread them on the table in front of Pierce. Buffy had drawn them up for her the night before, when Sadie's plan had been to drive all three of the men off the board, but things had taken a different turn. "Proxy statements, authorizing me to cast votes on their behalf."

"Oh," said Pierce, visibly disappointed. Whether it was because of the proxies or because she'd stopped making bedroom eyes at him, Sadie couldn't say. The latter would have been more convenient, but if wishful thinking accomplished anything than Sadie wouldn't have wasted her youth. It was too late for Sadie, but not for her daughter, not if Sadie could save her from herself.

She and Pierce looked at one another for a moment, and then he did a double take, which was very encouraging. "Wait, what?" Pierce picked up one of the packets and peered at the dense jargon. "These can't possibly be binding," he declared. "If board members could be enticed to sign away their voting powers someone would have tried it on me back at Hawthorne Paper Products."

The man was a bulldog. Sadie almost admired his tenacity. Calling on years of practice, she covered her frustration with condescension. "I know, I know," she said indulgently. "Corporate governance rules, blah blah blah." She made a face, as though she were a kindergarten teacher explaining to her class about lima beans or brussels sprouts. "But the Greendale board bylaws were modified earlier this year, it turns out, so that you could be appointed to the board without a quorum of board members approving. Since a quorum wasn't possible when only two of the five seats were filled?"

"Yes," Pierce said slowly. "But board votes can't be proxied; changing the rules to allow me to join wouldn't change that…"

"I hate to disagree, Pierce." Sadie smiled as he finally blinked, rattled by her confidence. There was one other avenue of attack open. "Whoever revised the Greendale board rules was extremely sloppy. I suppose that's what you get when you let a disbarred amateur slobber drunkenly on your charter documents."

"Hey!" Pierce bristled. "Firstly, Jeff had nothing to do with…"

 _Damn_ , she thought,  _apparently despite all their differences he'll still defend the man when push comes to shove. Stupid loyal stubborn handsome generous idiot._  It didn't matter, though. "Of course." Sadie raised her hands and moved in for the kill. "Now, currently we lack a quorum of members, since you and I are only two-fifths of the board. We'll have to take this up tomorrow. This is your required twenty-four hour notice of an unscheduled board meeting. I do hope you and Mr. Pelton can both attend; we have a great deal to discuss."

Pierce sighed, and considered. Sadie could guess as to his thought process. The dean would be a full voting member of the board as of the next meeting. Pierce's plan, such as it was, had been for the two of them to form a two-person bloc that could wheedle at least one of Carl or Richie, if not both, into voting against anything Sadie proposed. Not that Sadie had actually proposed anything yet, true, but no doubt her daughter had convinced Pierce that Sadie's goals were the destruction of all that was good in the world.

They both knew that with the voting proxies she now had, Sadie effectively cast three votes to Pierce and the dean's two; enough to ram through whatever policy changes she wanted.

His only hope, Pierce realized, lay in finding Carl and Richie and getting them to rescind their proxy statements. The bar across the street, she'd said… "Excuse me," Pierce said suddenly, and bolted from the room.

"See you tomorrow, Pierce," Sadie called after him. "You handsome idiot," she muttered. "It would have been so much simpler if you'd just let me take care of everything."

The side door connecting the conference room directly to Buffy's office opened. "Hey, did I hear Pierce in here?" Carl asked from the doorway. In his hand was a glass of bourbon from Sadie's lawyer's private supply. "Pierce? Come in and join the party!" Carl glanced around the room.

Sadie shook her head, feigning confusion. "I haven't seen him," she said. "If he doesn't come back we won't be able to finish the meeting."

"Who cares?" Carl turned and signaled to Richie behind him.

Sadie laughed politely, then sobered. "Unfortunately there are still a few dreary items of boring, boring board business," she said sadly. "We'll have to have another meeting tomorrow. Consider this your official notice."

"Aw, man," said Richie. "I don't want to go to another one of these stupid meetings! Tomorrow's the Varsity Match."

"And you have plane tickets to Florida for two weeks at Disney World, leaving tonight," Sadie reminded him. Buying them at the last minute hadn't been cheap, but Sadie would spare no expense where her daughter's future was concerned. Getting rid of interfering idiots was essential. "You remember, the prizes you won for being the ten thousandth visitor to this law office?"

"Oh yeah." Carl nodded. "Say, how is it that Richie and I are both the ten thousandth visitor?"

"Photo finish," Sadie told him.

"Uh…"

"Duh, Carl," Richie told him. "Pay attention, dude."

"So, just to clarify…" Sadie eyed the digital recorder on the table, still making a record of the meeting. "The two of you have been duly informed of the meeting tomorrow, but you don't plan to attend? Which is fine, of course, that's why you signed those proxy statements."

Carl and Richie exchanged glances. "Yeah."

"Okay, great." Sadie nodded, giving no hint of the storm of frustration and anxiety raging inside her. "Well, you should go, if you want to make your flight. I've already had a cab called for you to take to the airport… have one for the road before you go, though, if you like."

"Awesome!" Carl turned back towards the bourbon in the room next door, and let the connecting door swing shut.

Sadie sat alone in the conference room for a few moments, calming herself down, before reaching over and turning off the recorder. She'd taken a lorazepam before the meeting, but it wasn't doing the trick. She dialed the office next door.

"Hello, Buffy?" she said when her attorney answered. "Yes, I'm still in the next room. Be a dear and tell the two men you're getting drunk that they don't allow cell phones in Florida, would you? I don't know, terrorist threats. Just be sure they don't have their phones before they get in the cab… Wonderful, thank you so much."

No, the lorazepam definitely wasn't doing it for her, she decided, and took an alprazolam, too.

* * *

Annie's first clue something was wrong was the skunk smell.

She arrived at the LSAT testing site almost a half an hour before the exam was scheduled. The DU Law campus wasn't hard to find, but just to be on the safe side she'd scouted it out the week before, determining the best place to park and checking travel time in normal traffic. Everything was going according to plan, up until she got out of her car and noticed the smell. Someone had hit a skunk, maybe?

The building doors were blocked by yellow police tape, and she didn't see any lights on inside. The smell seemed to be coming from within the building — a skunk had somehow gotten into the building? She tried the door just in case, front first, then the two sets of side doors. No way in, no lights on, no one else around. There were some suspicious scraps of paper taped to the doors, as though someone had taped up signs and someone else had come along and torn them down, but that didn't give her any useful information.

Annie checked the time. The LSAT was supposed to begin in fifteen minutes. She tried calling the number on the website, which meant navigating a bunch of menu options and eventually inputting her LSAT registration number, which she had to stop and pull from her email. Eventually she reached a human being, and in a brief conversation learned several new facts, of which three were particularly germane.

1\. The LSAT thought her phone number was off by one digit, which was why she hadn't gotten any of the messages they'd sent her.

2\. The messages explained that the night before vandals had set off stink and paint bombs inside the DU Law building where the LSAT was normally given.

3\. The exam had been moved to an alternate location, on the City College campus.

With mounting panic she leaped into her car and sped across town, shouting curses at every red light and rolling through each stop sign. The City College visitor's lot was full, of course, so she circled around for minutes in vain before finally giving up and parking in front of a fire hydrant. Her escalating invective proved to be for naught, as she reached the site of the moved LSAT exam almost five minutes after the text was scheduled to begin. LSAT regulations strictly prohibited admitting test-takers after the exam began. There would be no LSAT for Annie on this day.

Also her car was not just ticketed, but towed.

Ten minutes later Annie sat alone at a table in a coffee shop near City College, trying to compose herself enough to call Jeff. If she had to be the idiot who managed to screw up being at the right place at the right time to be allowed to take a test, she at least didn't want to be the idiot who broke down crying when she called her boyfriend to come get her because she'd parked in front of a fire hydrant and had her car towed.

 _This isn't your fault_ , part of her insisted.  _This is Mother, it has to be. Mother did this somehow. Mother planted stinkbombs and paintbombs at the testing site. Mother altered the LSAT registration records so you wouldn't get the messages about it. Mother had your car towed_ …

Blinking back tears, Annie tried to decide whether she would be happier in a world where her mother was both malevolent enough and possessed of sufficient supernatural power to hex her like this, or in a world where random bad luck could so effectively sabotage her only chance to take the LSAT before law school application deadlines.

It had to be bad luck. If Annie's mother had somehow masterminded this, she would have called to gloat, or sent a snide letter, or something. She wouldn't be content to just keep her distance, no, she'd have to rub Annie's nose in it somehow…

"Darling, is that you? Darling!"

Annie jumped, and looked around the coffee shop wildly. For a moment she thought, hoped, that she'd imagined the voice. No such luck.

"You look positively bedraggled," Sadie Parker-Edison said, her voice lush with concern. She sat down in a chair opposite Annie. "What are you doing here? Tell Momma all about it."

END ACT ONE


	8. Senior Seminar on Fiduciary Duty Act 2

SENIOR SEMINAR ON FIDUCIARY DUTY

ACT TWO

* * *

Seeing her mother there in front of her, face a mask of empathy, Annie actually felt better — she had some external object to focus her frustration on. "I don't need to tell you anything," she said shortly. "You know all about it already."

Sadie looked confused. "I do? I don't think I do."

"You can't —" Annie stopped herself. She hadn't meant to shout; she didn't want to make a scene. "You can't sit there," she said in a more reasonable tone, "and tell me that you had nothing to do with any of this."

"With what? You're not making any sense, Ann." Sadie clucked her tongue with condescending sympathy.

"You planted a stink bomb at DU," Annie spat. "You altered my cell number with the LSAT so I didn't know the test had been moved. And then you had my car towed, just for icing on the cake. Now I've missed my only chance to even take the test."

Sadie cooed sadly at her daughter. "You're upset, I can tell. And understandably; that sounds awful, your plans all going awry like that." She nodded solemnly. "There's a lesson in this. Learn from it and plan better in the future."

Annie stared at her. "What?"

"Perhaps next time you shouldn't delay your efforts — taking the LSAT — until so close to the deadline. In this case, the final of, let's see, there were four different testing dates over the course of the year?" Sadie sounded the epitome of reasonableness. "This is what happens when we delay to the last minute."

Annie felt numb, and wondered, absently, whether her face betrayed her rising bile or whether she was expressionless and blank.

"But the important thing is that you don't blame yourself," Sadie continued blithely. "Yes, you refused to listen to the advice of your mother. Yes, you failed to properly double-check your registration information. And yes, you made the decision to park in front of a fire hydrant. But there were certainly circumstances beyond your control. No one could have foreseen vandalism." She reached over and patted Annie's hand, then withdrew.

"Uh huh," Annie grunted.

"Unless…" Sadie frowned. "You don't think this was one of your so-called friends, was it?"

"What?"

"The various barnacles who have attached themselves to you. I don't mean to be unkind," she said quickly. "People can't help being what they are, and if what they are is too lazy or undisciplined to climb out of the gutter, it's understandable that they might resent you for hauling yourself up."

"Mother, please stop talking," Annie said quietly.

Sadie ignored her. "I'm sure it's not the case that your most recent lover sabotaged you as an expression of his own insecurity and deeply misguided affection." She spoke as though thinking aloud. "Though he does have a track record of dishonesty, doesn't he? And the kind of self-loathing that drives people to drag down those they profess to care about. If I were him I might be terrified of losing you once you begin to succeed in life, and see him as a millstone around your neck. No matter," she assured Annie, "clearly you know him best."

"Mother," Annie said again.

"Of course, he's hardly unique among your circle of acquaintances, is he? It's easy to imagine your friend with the mental problems taking dramatic action, thinking it's what people do in television shows or something…"

"I said stop it!" Annie snapped. She no longer cared about not making a scene. "How dare you, how  _dare_  you come in here and, and say these things…"

Sadie tutted again. "Ann, Ann. Annie. Annie-pooh. I'm trying to help you! It breaks my heart you choose to take your frustrations out on me, of all people. Also, this is hardly your personal coffee shop. I only came in for a latte."

"This wasn't my bad planning, and it wasn't Jeff, and it definitely wasn't Abed," Annie snarled. "This was you. You did this to me, and I will  _never_  forgive you for it."

Her mother sipped her drink daintily. "Oh, I see. This was all my doing? That makes sense." Coffee finished, Sadie rose, pulling her coat back on. "I do have the power to curse you with spells and hexes, after all. I'm responsible for every bad thing in your life, from paint-bomb vandalism to your self-sabotage. I'm so sorry to have brought you into this fallen world to suffer."

"It's not…" Annie closed her eyes and shuddered. "Go away."

"I do have my coat on, so I suppose leaving is the next logical step," Sadie said. She sighed heavily. "You make it very hard to love you, sometimes. I hope we can speak again under more pleasant circumstances soon." She turned to leave.

Annie voiced a thought as it occurred to her: "I didn't say anything about a paint-bomb!"

Her mother snorted derisively. "You did," she said without turning around. "But I suppose that doesn't matter, you've obviously made up your mind to blame me."

Annie watched her mother leave. She hadn't mentioned paint. She hadn't!

She was pretty sure she hadn't.

* * *

Pierce picked her up, an hour later, once she'd calmed down again, and arranged to be allowed to get her car back. She decided to call Pierce because he didn't know she was supposed to be taking the LSAT today, and she wasn't ready to explain the whole long morning.

On the phone he hadn't asked any questions, but as soon as she climbed into the passenger seat of his car he asked about the LSAT. "I thought today was the big day," he said. "Is it not until next weekend?"

Annie considered it a personal triumph that she resisted bursting into tears all over again. "It was today," she said, her voice cracking only a little. "Didn't work out."

"Oh." Pierce was silent for a few seconds. "Next date's in, what, February?"

Annie scoffed. "Yeah, well, that's too late for the deadlines this year. If I want to go to law school the soonest I could do it would be 2014."

"That can't be right," grumbled Pierce. "School starts in September, right? That's seven months after February. Or… eight?"

She shook her head. "The latest scores they'll accept is the preceding December."

"Well that's just silly. They get the scores in with plenty of time, I'm sure. Maybe not early-decision, but for normal applicants? And this is you we're talking about, any school would be lucky to have you."

"I go to Greendale," Annie reminded him.

"Still!" Pierce scowled as he drove. "I could talk to them."

Annie didn't say anything.

"I could!" he insisted. "The Hawthorne name still carries some weight in this town. And the Hawthorne Foundation's annual donations to the Sturm College of Law."

She tried to think of a polite way to tell Pierce that there was no chance he'd be able to magically convince the admissions department to waive their requirements. "You've already done so much for me…"

"It's a phone call. I can do a phone call. Jeff isn't the only man you know who can schmooze, you know. I've done plenty of wheeling and dealing. I'm handling your mother, aren't I?"

"It's just that… wait, what?"

Pierce glanced over. "Board meeting yesterday. Another one later today. It's not a problem," he assured her.

"Two meetings in two days?"

"Procedural shenanigans," Pierce said dismissively. "She's gotten rid of Carl and Richie. But she won't put one over me so easily, I can tell you that." He tensed up, ready for Annie to explode.

Instead she just sagged in her seat, which was worse. "That seems about right," she said resignedly.

"But like I said, I got Pelton on the board, so there's two of us and one of her," Pierce added cheerily. "And I'll have a chat with somebody over at the law school, too."

She sighed. "You don't need to do that…"

"I know, you think I can't do anything. But let me try," Pierce told her. "You've been dealt a bad enough hand without refusing help. You deserve better."

Annie wondered if that was true. "Thanks, Pierce."

* * *

"Greendale community college board of trustees, meeting the seventh of December, 2012. Mercedes Ann Parker-Edison, presiding. Also present are Pierce Hawthorne and Craig Pelton."

"Hiya!" the dean chirped into the digital recorder.

"You can just speak normally," Sadie assured him.

"Present," said Pierce.

"Excellent," said Sadie. "The first order of business we need to discuss…"

"Where are Carl and Richie?" the dean interrupted.

"Absent," Sadie said shortly. "However we have a quorum of board members, and they've assigned me their full voting rights, so we can conduct business normally."

"I think those assignations are void," Pierce announced. "After all, they aren't notarized. Those could be anybody's signatures."

"They are notarized, actually," Sadie said. She pulled the documents from a briefcase on the floor next to her and fanned them out on the conference room table. "See?"

"Oh." Pierce looked glumly at the assignations. That had been his best idea for countering Sadie's gambit.

"Now, as I was saying, the first order of business." Sadie shuffled the papers in front of her. "It's come to my attention," she began, her tone apologetic, "that some of the coursework at GCC might not be up to standards."

The dean raised his hand. "What's GCC?"

Sadie looked at him a moment before replying. "Greendale Community College."

"Ah." The dean nodded. "That makes sense."

"To head off any bad press or scandal, I move we act preemptively," she continued. "First, we cut the most problematic majors immediately, pending a full review of the curricula. Then we move on to other departments, eventually giving GCC a complete overhaul that turns it into something other than a laughingstock."

"Laughingstock is what we call at Greendale kind of a no-no word," the dean began.

Pierce ignored him. "What majors do you want to cut? What about the students in those programs? We can't just kick them to the curb."

"Of course not," Sadie cooed. "But ask yourself: are the so-called 'Law Studies' majors actually getting any bang for their education buck? I think that allowing them to graduate would simply be a matter of taking their money and running. I mean, there are two semesters of a class on constitutional law. The US Constitution is less than five thousand words long. Two semesters? That's an entire lecture on every sixty-five words."

"I'm sure there's more to it than that," the dean interjected. "Supreme Court cases and Schoolhouse Rock videos and such."

"Perhaps," Sadie said, graciously conceding the point. She winked at Pierce, as though the two of them were sharing a private joke. "But that's just two classes. I have a list here of some of GCC's least educational, most easy-A, blow-off courses. Beginner Pottery. Introductory Accounting. Basic Rocket Science. Independent study on conspiracy theories. And here's one: 'Learning!' With an exclamation point: it just says 'Learning!' "

"Is that Jeff Winger's transcript?" Pierce asked, leaning over to peer at the sheet of paper Sadie was holding.

"What? No, no, no," Sadie said quickly. She winked at him again.

Pierce startled. "Did you just…?"

"Hm?" Sadie gave him an even look, then folded the paper and tucked it into her briefcase. "Now. In light of these new facts, I move that the 'Law Studies' program be suspended, pending a careful review of the degree requirements by an outside auditor."

"An outside auditor? Who?"

Sadie shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. Off the top of my head, perhaps the Colorado State Bar Association would be a good place to find someone?"

"Oh, no," Pierce said. "I see where this is going. You just want to shut the program down because Annie's —"

"Mister Hawthorne!" Sadie interrupted. "That kind of baseless speculation is hardly appropriate for a board meeting."

"Wouldn't this audit disrupt the learning process of the very students we're trying to help?" asked the dean. "Maybe we should put it off until the summer."

"If the patient is bleeding to death now, I shouldn't think we'd wait until June to treat the wound," Sadie replied. "I and the proxies I hold vote yea on suspending the Law Studies major, pending an audit."

"Well, we both vote nay," said Pierce, "so…"

"Hold on, Pierce," the dean said. "I need to think about this. On the one hand, Ms. Parker-Edison raises some valid points. On the other hand, she's… uh. No offense, ma'am."

Sadie grunted noncommittally.

"So, um… hmm…" The dean made a show of knitting his brow and considering. "I suppose I have to go with Pierce on this one," he said after a long pause.

"Motion passes, three votes to two," Sadie said. "Moving on…"

"Wait, now," Pierce said. He didn't know where he was going with it but he wasn't about to let Sadie run roughshod over him.

"Three votes to two," Sadie repeated, as though she were speaking to a small child.

"Yes, well, I want to take a short recess to meet with my attorney." Pierce cleared his throat.

Sadie tutted. "We're in the middle of the meeting," she said. "And we've already had to put it off once…"

"Okay, well…." Pierce stared at the proxy assignations. How had it come to this? He couldn't shake the sense that Sadie Parker-Edison was playing fast and loose with the rules, but he didn't know exactly what to call her on. "I'm going to take these and review them," he announced.

"Fine." She shrugged. "There are electronic copies on file; you can keep those if you like. Really, Pierce, I don't see why you insist on adopting such a hostile attitude. I think we could work well together."

"In the great Edison-Parker-Edison war of 2012," Pierce said coldly, "I know which Annie I'm on the side of."

Sadie looked wounded. "I only want the best for my daughter, like any mother. You make me out to be some kind of monster, and I try to keep a brave face on, but…" Her voice cracked, her lip quivered, her eyes fluttered without closing.

Pierce shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sadie's eyes suddenly seemed larger, and the rest of her smaller.

"I know you're her lover's closest and dearest friend, but surely you can see that he's a bad fit for her," she continued.

"Well, that may be true," Pierce admitted.

"They're only going to bring out the worst in one another and make themselves miserable in the process. I'm only doing what any mother would do to spare her child pain."

"Hey now," the dean piped up. "Are we talking about Jeff Winger? Because I really think that…"

Sadie cut him off with a raised finger. "I know what you're going to say: he's  _not_  too old for her. And do you know, I agree?"

"Eh?" The dean squinted at her.

"The age gap between those two is no more relevant to the discussion than, say…" Sadie cast about, searching for an appropriate metaphor. "The gap between you and me, Pierce," she said to him, gesturing to the space in between them.

"What?" asked the dean. He glanced nervously at Pierce, then back to Sadie.

"But the fact of the matter is, my daughter is a sweet, innocent girl. And you and I both know what men of the world — men like yourself, men like Jeff Winger — do with sweet, innocent girls," Sadie said, again addressing Pierce alone. "After all, I was a sweet innocent girl once myself, a long time ago." She smiled sadly at him.

"Not that long ago, surely," Pierce said gallantly, before he quite knew what he was saying. "I mean," he added quickly, "that's beside the point."

"Of course, of course." A deflated Sadie looked down at the table between them. "I just… I know my daughter sees you as a sort of ersatz father figure. It's understandable; you and my ex-husband are both the same dashing, leading-man type. Sharp in a suit, know your wine…" She shrugged, as if this whole line of thought were pointless. "I know she and I aren't seeing eye to eye at the moment, but I love her and I'd hoped we could work together, for her and for all the other students at GCC."

The dean scoffed. "Lady, I have to say, you are laying it on pretty thick." He held up his hands in a 'no more' gesture.

"Now, Craig, I think we can at least be civil," Pierce told him. He smiled reassuringly at Sadie Parker-Edison.

END ACT TWO


	9. Senior Seminar on Fiduciary Duty Act 3

SENIOR SEMINAR ON FIDUCIARY DUTY

ACT THREE

* * *

Saturday afternoon Jeff sat in his apartment, flipping channels and wondering what he used to do on the weekends that was so all-fired pleasant. As recently as two months ago he hadn't been spending every Saturday with Annie as a matter of routine. There was laundry and exercise and cleaning and all the detritus of maintaining his lifestyle, but none of it appealed. He hadn't seen her since the night before, since she'd wanted a good night's sleep, alone, before her exam.

Finally, after a thousand hours of Netflix plus  _Fruit Ninja_ , three o'clock arrived.

**JEFF to ANNIE, 1502:**

**How'd it go?**

She didn't respond immediately, which wasn't particularly unusual. And Jeff certainly didn't spend the time until she did respond motionless, staring at his phone, waiting for the little dots that meant a message was incoming. That was not the kind of thing Jeff Winger did.

**ANNIE to JEFF, 1509:**

**Funny story**

**I screwed up and missed the test**

**Not so much funny as stupid**

Jeff started to type in a reply, then gave up and called her instead. "What happened?" he asked as soon as she answered.

"It was my own fault," Annie told him. She sounded distant and strained. "It's dumb. I was dumb."

"I doubt that," Jeff said slowly. He wracked his brain, trying to recall what good boyfriends in media did in these sorts of situations — that was what Annie would be expecting from him, right? He didn't actually have any first-hand experience to draw on. "What did you do that was so stupid?"

"Ugh, like three different things." She sounded exhausted. "It doesn't matter now."

"Sounds pretty unpleasant…"

"Uh huh. I'm just drained. In fact I'm going to lie down. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Uh… yeah, sure.." Jeff hesitated, unsure whether Annie had just cancelled their dinner date. Should he ask her? She didn't sound like she wanted to be pressed about anything… The choice was made for him when Annie hung up.

He sat alone, considering, for several seconds. His first impulse was to call her again, but his second impulse was to leave her be. The last woman he'd seriously dated had dumped him for being too clingy. And Annie was of course a very different person, but still… He decided to split the difference with a text message.

**JEFF to ANNIE, 1513:**

**Let me know if there's anything I can do**

**I'm fuzzy on the details but I remain confident you're an amazing person**

He'd hoped for a least a [blush emoji] or a [heart emoji] or a [thanks emoji] but there was no response.

* * *

When Pierce called him Jeff was so starved for company that he answered immediately despite seeing the caller ID. Shirley was busy most weekends, what with her husband and three children. Britta's text had confirmed that she was with Troy, and Jeff didn't feel comfortable contacting either of Annie's roommates, even indirectly, when she'd shut him out so bluntly.

Probably it was nothing. And he didn't want to be smothering. It just… wasn't like her.

But then, making three separate mistakes that had resulted in her not being able to take the LSAT exam: not like her, either.

"Pierce!" Jeff cried as he answered the phone.

"Jeffrey? It's Pierce," the older man said.

"Hi, Pierce." Jeff tried to keep his tone jovial.

"Are you free of the old ball-and-chain?"

"Sure."

"Not that she's a ball-and-chain. I mean, you're not married. I'm talking about Annie."

"I know."

"Not Britta."

"I know."

"That woman's a pill," Pierce muttered, apparently to himself. "I'm talking about Britta," he said, more loudly.

"What's up, Pierce?" Jeff asked.

"If you're free I have some papers I want to go over with you, as my lawyer."

"I am not your lawyer, Pierce, we do not have an attorney-client relationship, none of our conversations are privileged or confidential, and anything I say or do does not constitute legal advice," Jeff recited quickly.

Pierce scoffed into the phone. "I know, I know."

"If anybody from the bar association ever asks you, remember I said that." Jeff sighed. "You know I'm serious about this."

"I know."

"I'm due to get my license back in less than half a year."

Pierce coughed.

"There's a real solid chance the bar association is going to contact my character references, and since I burned bridges with my old firm, that list includes you." Jeff switched his phone from left hand to right, so he could pour himself a drink. "People who don't know you might get the impression you're a credible reference, so remember. I am not a lawyer and I do not give you legal advice."

"I get it, I get it, Jeffrey. I'm not an idiot," Pierce said. He sounded slightly hurt by the suggestion. "Now, I have copies of some documents relating to the Greendale board… how are you at corporate governance?"

"Not great," Jeff said frankly. Already his appetite for Pierce's nonsense had been sated; an evening alone in his apartment no longer seemed so bad. "You should probably talk to a lawyer about it."

"Well, you know this concerns you directly," Pierce snapped. "I didn't get to be worth fifty million dollars by paying a bunch of suits."

"Is that right? Fifty million? That sounds high. Either way, you got your money by inheriting it."

"That's only partially true. Listen, come over here and help me figure this out. Mercedes is as dangerous as she is beautiful. I'm having lunch with her tomorrow and I want to be armed. Not literally armed. Armed with a strong legal defense. Although… a sidearm might be good to have, just in case we get mugged…"

"Pierce, you're doing that thing where you say things as you think them." Jeff rested his head on his kitchen counter for a moment, and took a breath. It was marginally better than staying cooped up in his apartment. "I'll be over in a few minutes."

Only after he'd hung up did it occur to Jeff to wonder, briefly, about the identity of 'Mercedes.' But he had plenty on his mind already.

* * *

"Okay," Jeff said, some hours later. "Okay." He sighed.

Jeff and Pierce sat together in a beige office full of computer equipment from the late 1980s, which Pierce referred to as his business center. On a desk between them were spread pages and pages of documents: minutes of board meetings, the proxy assignations Pierce had obtained earlier that day, the Greendale Community College charter and board bylaws, a half-dozen other items. Working with Pierce on a project like this was giving him Spanish 101 flashbacks, and not pleasant ones.

The optimal workflow had proved to be Pierce reading documents out loud while Jeff took notes, which had its own problems. Pierce liked to paraphrase, pep up dull sections, and otherwise confuse the highly technical jargon the documents were all written in. The parts of being a lawyer had involved documents and the reading and writing thereof were the parts of being a lawyer Jeff really hated. But once Pierce had explained Sadie's plan to strip Jeff's major of its accreditation, turning his time at Greendale into a massive waste of time, he'd been motivated to find some loophole or error. He'd even texted Annie, asking if she was up for doing some extracurricular work for no credit, but she hadn't responded.

"Okay," Jeff said a third time. He surveyed the sheets of notes he'd taken. "So the good news is we have several ways to challenge this." He ticked them off on his fingers. "One, Sadie wasn't appointed properly to the board and so all the votes and decisions she participates in are void. Two, the rules changes that Carl and Richie made to allow them to assign proxies are also voidable, because they didn't have a proper quorum of board members to approve them. Three, terminating the Law Studies program violates rules in the Greendale student handbook about what's necessary to graduate, and my agreement with Greendale is bound by those rules. There are probably fourth, fifth, and sixth arguments, too."

"Great!" declared Pierce. "So I present this to the board, and she agrees not to screw with any current Greendale students, and everybody wins."

Jeff shook his head. "No, she could just disregard it and continue her one-woman reign of terror. What we do is, we go to a judge and we get an injunction against her. That means filing charges…" He winced, visualizing the stacks and stacks of paperwork involved in such a process. He'd talk to Annie about it tomorrow, he decided. She'd be willing to help.

"Is that the bad news?"

"Part of it," Jeff replied wearily. "The other part is that except for the student handbook thing, basically all of these arguments are also reasons that you and the dean aren't properly on the board, either. It comes down to whether a two-nothing vote, with three empty ballots, counts as a three-fifths majority. The case we'd be making is that it doesn't, and when the other three board members quit last spring the board was irrevocably broken."

Pierce grunted. "I'm not a lawyer, but 'irrevocably broken' sounds bad."

"I'm not a lawyer either and you are not my client," Jeff answered mechanically. He sighed. "Realistically the result of a suit is that after a year or so of writing letters back and forth, the court lets us rewrite the board rules so that you and Craig can be on it, and I doubt we could keep Sadie off, under those circumstances."

"But nothing would happen for a year." Pierce brightened. "So the injunction would stop Mercedes from screwing over all of you so you couldn't graduate! Sounds like a win to me."

"Yeah, well…" Jeff closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. A thought struck him, and he opened his eyes again. "Who exactly is Mercedes?"

"Annie's mother. Mercedes Ann 'Sadie' Parker-Edison." Pierce looked at Jeff like he'd grown a second head. "You've met her. Short, dark hair, looks like a hot version of Annie?"

"Oh, my God," Jeff said. He leaned forward in his beige vintage 1980s office chair. "Are you going on a date with her? Are you insane?"

Pierce snorted. "Jeffrey, please. We're both men of the world… what are you doing?"

Jeff had his phone out. "Calling Annie to get her to get you to call it off!" he snapped. "Annie? You all right?" he asked, speaking into the phone.

"I'm fine," Annie said tightly.

"Listen," he said without further preamble, "Pierce is going on a date with your mother."

"What?" Annie sounded baffled.

"I'm sure you can talk him out of it." Jeff glared at Pierce, and handed him his phone.

Pierce reluctantly put the phone to his ear. "Hello? …Okay." He handed the phone back to Jeff with a shrug.

"Jeff, is there a reason you decided to stand me up tonight?"

Now it was Jeff's turn to be baffled. "What?"

"I've been waiting at Morty's Steak House for half an hour," Annie said. "Was there a reason or did you just figure that I'm just a wet blanket?"

"What?" Jeff's mind raced as he tried to come up with an apt response. She had been stewing for hours, it seemed, and worked up a good head of steam to take out on him.

"I know you sometimes struggle with honesty." Annie's tone was one of frosty condescension. "Maybe I was unreasonable in my expectations, but I thought you'd at least tell me if you didn't feel up to seeing me. I've had a lousy day, and I was really looking forward to this."

Jeff cringed as he heard her voice nearly crack. "I'm so sorry," he said. "But you cancelled on me, remember? You said you were going to lie down and we'd talk tomorrow, so I thought…"

"What? I did not!" she retorted. "I said I'd take a nap and see you tonight!"

Both of them were entirely convinced their memories were completely correct.

"Listen," Jeff said urgently, "I'm sorry you bombed the LSAT but you don't need to take it out on me!"

"For your information, I didn't 'bomb' the LSAT. I was sabotaged by my mother. Probably by my mother." She sighed heavily, into her phone. "Are you sorry? Are you actually sorry?"

"What? Of course!"

"Because I think about it, and you're always saying things like 'oh, don't worry about your coursework Annie,' and 'let's not study Annie,' and 'you should skip classes with me instead of trying to do well.' Well, I like doing well!"

"I know you do! What's your point?"

" 'What's your point?' " Annie mimicked Jeff in a stupid voice. "That's you. Like you don't know what I'm saying. Like you think I'm dumb enough to be fooled."

"I think you're dumb enough to be saying a lot of dumb stuff right now," Jeff retorted.

"Maybe you're dumb enough to make yourself believe a lot of dumb stuff," she countered. "You say you don't believe in doing things? What's that if not 'I better not try because people might realize my best effort isn't that great,' huh? What's that if not 'I feel threatened by people who do well,' or 'I resent Annie for trying to do well,' huh? How far is it from that to 'I don't want her to do well on the LSAT because it reminds me that I had to cheat and lie because I failed' or 'I'd better stop Annie from succeeding or else she might decide she's too good for me!' I'm not too good for you, Jeff, but do you resent me for hauling myself up out of the gutter?"

"Not cool!" stormed Jeff. "I didn't fail the LSAT, I never took it! Because I had to lie to do it, yeah, but I passed the bar without even going to stupid fucking law school! So don't blame me if you aren't as smart or good or perfect as you think you are!"

He regretted the words as soon as he said them. His reward was an aggrieved gasp on the other end of the line, followed by the click of Annie hanging up on him.

Jeff sat there, still, for a few seconds, until Pierce cleared his throat.

"That sounded like it escalated quickly," he said.

"Shut up, Pierce," said Jeff.

* * *

The next day Pierce met Sadie at her favorite restaurant. It wasn't really a date, despite Jeff's concern, Pierce told himself. He knew Sadie and Annie were estranged; given the stress of his relationship with his own father he'd never disregard his friend's feelings about her mother. This was, if it was anything, merely reconnaissance. Sadie was the enemy. Further, she was a dark seductive wicked vixen, and why would Pierce waste his affections on someone like that?

He arrived a few minutes early, but she was already there, in a tasteful dark dress that looked amazing on her but which certainly couldn't be mistaken for the kind of a dress a woman would wear on a date.

There was a moment of confusion when they were taken to their table and he sat. She stood there a moment, looking at him, until he realized his mistake and rose to pull out her chair.

"Oh, thank you so much," she said graciously.

"Not at all, Mercedes," Pierce replied. "You look exquisite, by the way," he added. She was the enemy. It was a recon mission. That didn't mean he could afford to blow his cover, could he?

"Thank you," she said again, almost blushing.

Mimosas were offered almost with the menus. "To Greendale," Pierce offered, toasting.

"To Greendale," Sadie agreed, clinking glasses. "And to new endeavors."


	10. Espionage in the Romantic Age Act 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, thanks to both Amrywiol and Bethanyactually.

ESPIONAGE IN THE ROMANTIC ERA

ACT ONE

* * *

Sunday Jeff lay in bed until he couldn't make himself pretend to sleep any longer. Noon found him stewing in his apartment. He'd started six different emails to Annie, deleting each midway through writing them. He'd gone so far as to try just calling her, but her phone was off. He'd checked with Abed and determined that Annie was at their apartment. He could go over there; Abed would let him in. Then he could talk to her, and apologize…

Or maybe that wasn't such a good idea. A couple of months ago hadn't he tried exactly that? And it hadn't gone well. But this was a different situation, Jeff told himself. Annie hadn't demanded he leave her alone, or give her space. She'd turned her phone off, but there were lots of ways to interpret that. Most of them didn't have anything to do with him, even.

Jeff was halfway out the door, keys in hand, when his phone rang. Pierce. Odds were that it wasn't Annie borrowing Pierce's phone, but he couldn't take that chance. Annie might have fled to Pierce. She hadn't known about Pierce's inexplicable date with Sadie, had she? He felt a sense of deja vu as he answered the phone, hoping it was her. "Hello?"

"Jeffrey? It's Pierce," the older man said. "I'm in my car in the parking lot of someplace called Anne-Marie's Room. Decent French toast, fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice. You should try it sometime."

"I've…" Jeff decided there was no point in telling Pierce that he'd been there, recently, with Annie and his mother. "What's the problem, Pierce?"

"Well, I was having brunch with Mercedes, as I told you. I'm on your side, you know. Not doing this because she's hot and plainly interested, but out of a desire to gather intel. In the business we called it sleeping with the enemy. Didn't always do a lot of sleeping, though, if you catch my drift…" Pierce chuckled. "I mean sex."

"Why are you calling? Your car won't start? Sadie attacked you with a knife and you shot her in self-defense and now there's a body to dispose of? What?"

"I thought you should know, I talked to her about you and Annie. She knew about the fight you two had last night."

Jeff grunted.

Pierce went on, "The one on the phone at my place? We were going over the pile of legal documents, and you called Annie, and…?"

"Yes, I remember, Pierce. It's burned into my brain."

"Okay, well, good, we're back on the same page." Pierce cleared his throat. "Mercedes seems to think that you're on the verge of breaking up. Or have broken up? I don't know how she knew. She implied that Annie had called her all tearful and looking for advice, but I think that was her laying out a smokescreen. Annie wouldn't do that. If she were going to turn to a parental figure I'm sure it'd be me."

Jeff grunted again.

"So I don't know about that," Pierce repeated. "Anyway, besides being suspiciously well-informed, she laid out guesses about how it would all end. You pushing Annie and not giving her space. Getting clingy. She feels hemmed in, she bolts. Mercedes made me promise not to talk to you about this, so, obviously I came right to you."

Jeff sighed heavily. "You realize that was probably her plan, right?" Sadie wanted to get into Jeff's head. Sadie must have known that Pierce would immediately run to Jeff with this story. That was entirely in line with what he knew about how she operated.

"What?" Pierce sounded skeptical. "You think she expected me to tell you what she told me? I rather doubt that, Jeffrey. The woman trusts me, I think. She's very… friendly, if you catch my drift. I'm seeing her again tomorrow night."

"How…" Jeff took a breath. "Whose side are you on here, Pierce?"

"Annie's!" Pierce replied readily. "Well, yours and Annie's. We're both men of the world, Jeffrey, you know that."

"Uh huh."

"If the two of you are going to make it work, or not, then you should do it without Mercedes's interference. That's why I'm telling you what she told me."

Jeff cringed. At this point he wanted to just lie down for a while. "Okay. I'll talk to you later, all right? Thanks."

He hung up and, putting thought to deed, went back to bed for a while.

* * *

Britta woke to the sound of ringing. She didn't know how to change the ringtone on her cell, so the sound was the default screaming Anne-Frank-hiding-from-the-Nazis klaxon. She normally had the ringer turned off, but Britta was paranoid that a major national crisis would happen while she was asleep, and people would call her for her reactions, seeking her guidance in troubled times, looking to her to organize a protest and start the mass movement… that sort of thing. So whenever she went to bed she turned her ringer on, and turned it off when she woke up. Unless she forgot, which never happened. It was hardly ever a thing that happened.

"Hello?" she mumbled, still mostly asleep. "Who is it?" Her cell phone had come free with an oil change, so it didn't have all the hot new features like caller ID and she was always wrestling with the spelling autocorrect on text messages.  

"Hello? Britta?" Annie. She sounded anxious, but then, she always sounded anxious. "Can I come over?"

"Uh… it's…" Britta looked around for a clock, but the only one in her bedroom was stuck flashing 12:00. "It's super early," she said, which was at best an informed guess.

"I know," said Annie, confirming Britta had been right (the score for today so far was Britta 1, rest of the world 0, oh yeah, suck it, rest of the world). "But I need to… to get somewhere."

Britta felt more than a little touched that Annie had thought of her apartment as a place of refuge. She might have gone to Shirley, or to Pierce, or to Jeff. Jeff was the most obvious choice, which meant there was probably a reason Annie wasn't there… But still! That Annie thought of her gave her a sense of optimism. Britta 2, rest of the world 0. "So come over," she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

"I'm outside your apartment," Annie told her. "I tried knocking but you didn't answer."

"Seriously? Hold on." Without hanging up, Britta pulled on a sweatshirt over the t-shirt and yoga pants that were her pajamas. She threaded around the junk in her bedroom and the junk in her front room, then threw the front door open.

Sure enough, Annie stood on the landing. She looked as rumpled as Britta had ever seen her, and there were dark circles under her eyes. "Hi," she said with a nervous smile, hanging up her phone.

Britta hung up, too. "What's up? I mean, come in!" She gestured to the room behind her, and stepped out of the doorway.

Annie carefully stepped into the living room. Britta winced at Annie's reaction to her apartment, remembering that Annie hadn't been over since last spring. The younger woman's eyes widened slightly at the sight of it all — a dozen old pizza boxes, a pile of unopened mail, dirty dishes on nearly every horizontal surface. Cat hair sticking to all the upholstery and fabric. Britta's bedroom, visible through a door wedged open with laundry, was much the same: fewer pizza boxes and more heaps of dirty clothes and several lurking cats. The litter box in the bathroom was the only part of the apartment Britta kept scrupulously clean, because she'd learned the hard way what happened if she didn't.

"Sorry about the mess," Britta continued. "Just set anything anywhere… I'll make a pot of coffee."

"Thanks for having me," Annie said, as she sat daintily on the edge of the sofa, claiming the cleanest seat in the house. "Coffee would be great… I didn't know where else to go."

"So what's up?" Britta asked from her kitchen. Her kitchen was about three feet from the sofa and six feet from her bedroom, so she didn't need to speak loudly. She rinsed out some mugs while the drip maker brewed.

"Yesterday was… the worst day I've had in a long time. I missed the LSAT, because of my mother I think, and then Jeff and I had a fight, and… I just cannot handle him right now. He'll just look at me and I'll freeze and melt and, ugh, I'm sorry." Annie buried her face in her hands. "I didn't really sleep last night."

"Ho-kay…" Britta bit her lip. "You're totally welcome here, of course," she said. "Or if you want to lie down…? Shower?"

Annie straightened up. "I'm fine, thanks," she said. "It's not such a big deal. I shouldn't be so dramatic."

"Annie," said Britta.

"You know, you might be more comfortable in an apartment that doesn't have quite so many empty pizza boxes," Annie suggested. "We could go through them and you could decide which empty pizza boxes you want to keep, and…?"

"Annie! You're deflecting. That is a thing people do, which I know because I'm basically a therapist," Britta reminded her. She leaned back and rested against the kitchen counter behind her. "So anything you tell me will be therapist-therapee confidential. Not that I'd tell anyone anything… you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." Annie relaxed a bit in her seat. "You know I want to join the FBI."

Britta nodded.

"It's stupid and a long way off and maybe it'll never happen and I would have to be really lucky, and I know it's kind of stupid, but it's what I want to do," Annie continued.

"It's not stupid," Britta said. "You'd make a good FBI agent. You're all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Self-starter. I like to drink and sleep, but you've got it all…" She waved her hand in Annie's general direction. "You've got it all going on." A thought struck her. "You wouldn't be disqualified for having a friend who smokes weed, would you?"

Annie shook her head absently.

"It's not even illegal any more," Britta pointed out. "Yes on 64!"

"That's fine," Annie assured her. "The FBI policy on that is… it's fine."

"Okay, see? You know that. You're smart, you work hard, you'd be an asset. So enough with the it's-stupid routine. Stupid is agreeing to take a four-week yacht trip with a guy you barely know and his two other girlfriends he didn't tell you about in advance."

"Did you…?"

"We're not talking about me. So. Tell Auntie Britta all about it. No. 'Auntie Britta' sounds too cat lady."

"My Auntie Lelia had three dogs and no cats," Annie offered.

"Sister Britta? No. Sounds like a nun." Britta frowned, then moved on. "Doesn't matter. Tell me."

Annie leaned back on Britta's couch. She almost fell into the low part where the frame was shot, but caught herself on the armrest. She spoke slowly at first, then faster and faster as the tears started to flow. "I was going to take the LSAT yesterday, and then Jeff and I were going to meet, and then we were going to have a nice dinner. Instead I missed the start time for the exam, and my car was towed, and I saw Mother, and I just wanted to take a nap after, so I told Jeff that and he thought I meant I didn't want to go to dinner, so then I got all dressed up and I went to the steak place to meet him and he didn't show and then he called me because Mother seduced Pierce and she's planning on cancelling Greendale or something, and we had a fight and I haven't heard from him since so maybe we broke up I don't even know and I didn't know where else to go so I came to you and you have cat hair on everything —" At this point Annie gave up trying to form words and just collapsed crying on the couch, falling sideways into the big divot where the frame was shot. "And now I have cat hair on me, too!" she sobbed.

Britta quickly shifted from the kitchen to the couch, hugging Annie and then sort of awkwardly petting her. "There, there," she said. "It's okay." _Tissues, tissues, where are there tissues? Bathroom!_ She quickly fetched a roll of toilet paper from under the sink in the bathroom.

Annie took a couple of squares and wiped her eyes with them. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"No problem. Hey, listen, it's going to be okay." Britta patted Annie again. "I mean, that sounds terrible," she amended, in an attempt to display empathy and support.

"Yeah, it's just, I mean one thing after another…" Annie almost broke down again, and strained to control herself, with the help of more toilet paper.

"Mmm-hmm." Not knowing what else to do, Britta didn't stop patting Annie's back.

Annie sniffled a bit more. "This is stupid, I shouldn't be so upset," she complained. "I didn't even want to take the LSAT until October. If I had prepared right I would have taken it last February, so it's my own fault. And I should have been more clear with Jeff, and…"

"Hey, no," Britta told her firmly. "Nothing is your fault! Ever!"

"Well, some things are my fault," Annie countered. "I'm not a child; I'm responsible for my own actions."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Britta admitted. "But any time Jeff makes you cry, it's not your fault. It's his fault."

"I don't think that really holds water either," Annie said thoughtfully. She blew her nose on more toilet paper. "Maybe in this case, but not as a blanket rule." Considering the logical flaws in Britta's statements seemed to be having a calming effect. "What if it isn't his fault? Like, he says something that reminds me of my fourteenth birthday party?"

"What happened at your fourteenth birthday party?"

Annie made a sound midway between a chuckle and a whimper. "It was right around when my parents separated. I didn't have any friends, but my father didn't know that, so he rented Big Bear for an afternoon… the ice-skating rink," she clarified, seeing Britta's confusion. "This whole big arena and it was just me and Mother and him and my Aunt Lelia… and Sandy."

"Sandy?"

"His administrative assistant. Well, secretary. Personal assistant…" Annie shrugged. "His mistress, it turned out."

"Ah," said Britta.

"Yeah, it wasn't a fun day. He was upset that Mother hadn't invited any of my friends, and Mother said I didn't have any friends, and he said that couldn't be true, and they fought about it and then he asked me. Mother was right, I didn't have any friends… this was after I quit Hebrew school and before I really started doing college-application extracurriculars, so I didn't really have anybody. But I didn't want to be on Mother's side, in a fight between them, so I lied and said that I had a bunch of friends and Mother had refused to let me invite them… Wow," Annie said, "I haven't thought about that in years."

"Uh huh," said Britta.

"He left right after that. I used to think that if I'd had friends, they wouldn't have had that fight and he wouldn't have left…"

Britta nodded. "He did already have Sandy, though," she pointed out.

Annie snorted. "Yeah. That's what Mother used to say. I don't even know why she was there. Sandy, I mean. I remember she gave me this really nice blue jacket… that I lost at the rink. Mother probably threw it away," Annie mused, realizing it for the first time.

Britta nodded again, hoping she looked smart. She should have gotten her glasses out, she realized. Too late now. "So it all comes down to your father."

"I don't know if that's true," Annie said cautiously. "I mean, yes, I haven't seen him in almost a decade and yes, I guess he did just abandon me and Mother and yes, in a sense I am always looking for his approval that I'll never be able to get… but, you know, daddy issues are what strippers have. No offense."

Britta bristled slightly."Okay, first off, why would I be offended by that?Secondly, strippers are not all the desperate seekers of male approval that society likes to paint them as; they're women owning their own sexuality.Not being exploited, but exploiting the male gaze for our own profit!Their own profit, I mean. I never stripped."

Annie shrugged. "Sorry?"

"We were talking about Jeff." Britta wasn't much for distant childhood trauma, even if it drove Annie to seek societal approval through achievement in the same way that it might drive another woman to seek male approval through sexual performance. Not really in Britta's wheelhouse. Jeff Winger, though, him and men like him she knew something about. "If he makes you cry, it's not your own fault for being oversensitive, it's his fault for being a dick. He can't help being a dick," she said with some authority, "but he can try to be better and it's not on you if he doesn't."

"I know that," Annie said distantly. "I feel like I used to know what I wanted, and how the world worked, and how to get what I wanted, and now everything's all messed up. I don't even know if Jeff and I are still together…"

"What? Did he —? What kind of —?" Britta sputtered.

Annie played anxiously with her hair. "We were fighting and using the word 'dumb' a lot and then I hung up on him."

Britta blinked. "Hold on. Did you and Vaughn never fight…?"

"Vaughn?" Annie sounded unsure why Britta was bringing him up. "Vaughn and I broke up a long time ago. We were leaving town, going to Delaware, and then I was like, 'hey, no, thanks though,' and he was like, 'what do you mean?' And then one thing led to another and he left me at the rest stop out on I-70."

Britta's eyes widened as she realized that Annie – for all her experience with academic success, social anxiety, narcotics addiction, rehabilitation and recovery, abusive mother, and the mad crucible that was Greendale – had never actually been in an adult relationship. Britta knew more than Annie about something! And it wasn't even something that Britta herself was very good at — Shirley had made that clear, not long ago. Still, she had once had a fight with a boyfriend that didn't end with them breaking up.

She wondered whether Jeff ever had, either.

"Okay, listen to me, because this is a true thing," Britta told Annie. "You and Jeff have not broken up."

Annie looked uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"I am one hundred percent sure. You have had Jeff wrapped around your little finger for, like, a year at least. It would take concerted action to lever the two of you apart. Like, bears and witches working together. Because… listen, if Jeff were here right now and he said he was sorry and he didn't mean to have your car towed —"

"Jeff didn't have my car —"

Britta waved away the inconsequential detail. "Would you take him back? Or would you say 'Sorry Jeff, you ain't good enough for this,' all sassy-like, and snap your fingers in his face?" Britta punctuated the line by snapping her own fingers in Annie's face.

Annie reared back. "But that's just it! I'm the one who screwed this up! I should be apologizing to him, so of course —"

"See?" Britta beamed. "I swear to you, he feels the same way you do. I bet if you call him right now then the first thing he'll do is apologize, probably with a long and flowery speech that brings in allusions to orbiting moons or gravity or something."

"I turned my phone off," Annie said. "Last night, after. I'm afraid to… what if he's left me thirty angry voicemails?"

"He has not," Britta promised. "You and Jeff have fought before. Like, dozens of times. And at the end of it you two have always ended up closer than you were, staring at one another and smiling like you're the only people in the room and the rest of us don't matter."

"That was different." Annie fidgeted with her hair some more. "That was before."

Britta shook her head. "You're the same people and…" She tried to think of a way to explain why she thought the stakes here are actually way _lower_ because Jeff and Annie were a couple, not higher. Too hard. She gave up. "And you care about each other," she concluded.

Annie seemed to mull this over. "And the last time we had a fight he made it worse, the way he kept pressing me.I hadn't really thought about that.So maybe he's not going to do that."

"Maybe!" agreed Britta.

"So I need to make the first move.I've been making a big deal out of, possibly, nothing. And if I just call Jeff and apologize, it'll be okay."

"It'll be okay even if you call Jeff and refuse to apologize," Britta assured her."Or if you just turn your phone back on and wait for him to call you.Which he will, because he's basically your love slave."

Annie fished her phone out of her purse and stared at it."I'm kind of afraid to turn it on."

"You can do it! I'm sure you can."

Annie nodded slowly."I will… I'm just going to go back to the apartment first.I mean, just to get the home-field advantage." Then she smiled a tiny smile, and looked up at Britta. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"I do feel better," Annie said as she rose.

"Yeah?" Britta beamed. _Therapized!_ Britta 3, rest of the world 0, suck it, rest of the world.

* * *

Jeff took a deep breath. "I screwed up. I can admit that. We both said some things we regret — I mean, I regret what I said. And I've known you for years and I think I can safely say you regret some of what you said." He cleared his throat.  "I'm sorry... that probably goes without saying." Jeff winced; this was harder than he'd thought it was going to be.  _C'mon, Winger_ , he thought, you can do this.  _No glibness, just honesty_.  "A lot of things probably go without saying. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't say them. In retrospect yesterday I should have made more of an effort to comfort you and make sure you were getting what you needed, instead of letting my feelings be hurt when you hung up on me. And I shouldn't have gotten so defensive when we did talk, last night."

He sat at the table in Annie's apartment, almost alone. Abed stood nearby, working the video camera he'd mounted on a tripod. Jeff had warned him they were only doing one take, so Abed was silent, focused entirely on the feed. 

Jeff paused to take a sip of water. He'd started off pretty weak but he could build on that. "I…" He looked away from the camera. _Abed's not there_ , he told himself. _Just Annie_. "It's not exactly something I'm eager to admit, but you terrify me. This terrifies me," he clarified, glancing at the camera again before looking away. "From the minute you came into my life I… it didn't take long for me to realize that you were someone special. Someone important to me. And over time you've only become more important to me. Which is scary, terrifying, like I said, because caring so much about you — about another person — means that there's this whole new way I can be hurt. There's this whole new arena that I can make huge mistakes in. And just when I think I've mastered it, there turns out to be this whole other level…" He chuckled. "Eventually I'll get the hang of working with you… we do make for a nigh-unbeatable team already, but judging by the fact that I'm doing this, there's obviously room for improvement… so eventually we'll get better at it, and by then there'll be kids to make mistakes with. We'll work together to make the opposite of the mistakes my father made with me and your mother made with you. Whole different realm of mistakes." He glanced at the camera again, before lifting his gaze up to the ceiling.

"It's probably a mistake to admit that – that I look at you and I see a house and a dog and a living room strewn with toys and a couple of kids, driven and brilliant and beautiful like you or lazy wiseasses like me… I think back to the relationships I've been in, such as they were, and if any of those girls had said anything remotely like what I just said, I'd have smiled and nodded and said I was going to make a quick trip to the liquor store and then never come back. The last woman I dated, you remember her, Michelle? Dumped me for getting clingy.

"And I haven't wanted you to dump me, obviously, so… I can't tell you the number of times that I've had the urge to call you, or text you, or grab you and kiss you, and not done it because I know you need a certain amount of space. And because giving in to those urges means admitting, to myself as much as anyone else, just how much I care about you and how devastated I'd be to lose you. Years ago you had a crush on a cool guy who didn't seem to care about anything or anyone, and I don't…" Jeff paused for another sip of water. "I don't want to disappoint you by revealing the extent to which I'm not that guy, the extent to which you make me an emotional wreck. Which I'm sure is more about me than it is you… although if you weren't around I could probably go through life reasonably happy, lying to myself that I had everything I needed, making myself believe it. But you – the way I feel about you forces me to admit that there is more that I want. I love you and I don't want to lose you, now or ever, and… and now I'm sounding like a junior high school girl's romantic ideal. Or not; I don't actually know what junior high school girls want, I just assume it's cartoonish obsessive codependent romance.

"But I guess that's the guy I am. I'm a guy who loves you. I'm a guy who constructed whole elaborate structures of denial and sublimation, because I didn't think it was possible that you and me together could do anything but end badly. I'm a guy who kissed you a couple of months ago because after everything… in that moment, I couldn't bear to not kiss you for one second longer." He swallowed, then continued. "I'm a guy who's looked around at his life and realized he needs to pull it the hell together, because you deserve… You deserve the perfect man. And, much as it pains me to admit, I'm not perfect; all I can be is the best possible version of myself. That's what you do to me, what you've always done to me: you make me want to be better than I am, and you make me feel okay with being me."

Jeff paused, again. He was kind of impressed with his own candor, actually. He rubbed the back of his neck. "And that's nothing new," he said, staring now at a spot on the floor just behind and below the camera. "You've been making me okay with being me, and making me want to be better the whole time I've known you. And you know me pretty well, and… assuming this video confession hasn't driven you to run screaming, which is a risk I'm going to have to take… God, what can I say?

"You're my favorite person. I'm pretty sure, objectively, you're the best person. Definitely the best person in the state. You're cute and you're fun and you have this bottomless well of enthusiasm… and you don't let anyone push you around, you're the sharpest person I know, and did I mention that I'm constantly repressing the urge to just grab you and kiss you, because you're so grabbable and kissable? You're crazy hot. You're Lois Lane. 

"And I'm probably overthinking this. I mean, hell, within twenty minutes of us getting together you were explaining that you were open to the idea of kids down the line, just not right away. Which, hey, I can totally support."

He took one last deep breath, for the windup. "I recall telling you on more than one occasion that the only force in the universe capable of withstanding us is each other. When we're shoulder to shoulder we become invincible. So let's work together. Let's thwart all the evil schemes and bring peace and justice to the earth, because seriously, we're a couple of superheroes."

Jeff glanced behind the camera at Abed. "Now, I've asked Abed to record this for me. He's going to put it online and give you the link, and if you ever really want to get me good you can pass it around. I'm sure everybody would have a good laugh at my expense. But this is a message just for your eyes. Abed's seen it, obviously, but I trust him."

 

END ACT ONE

 


	11. Espionage in the Romantic Age Act 2

ESPIONAGE IN THE ROMANTIC ERA

ACT TWO

 

After therapizing Annie, Britta went out with her and got breakfast (or a late lunch, depending on whom you asked). After sending Annie off with a hopeful smile, Britta was feeling pretty darn okay about the world and her place in it. Enough that she dug into her studying with new vigor, and reviewed almost twenty pages of _Evolutionary Psychology: Mind Science_ before the shine wore off. Not for the first time, Britta wished that the rest of the study group were psych majors, so they could study together. As it was they never really met any more. Maybe that would change in the spring semester, if somebody besides Chang was teaching the second half of Historiography. She drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter; sitting on the barstool at the counter was the closest thing to a study space she had.

Fortunately not long after she got bored with studying Troy came over. He sauntered in without his usual cockiness, and collapsed into the couch's divot. "Ugh!" he announced. "Ugh, I say!"

Britta yelped. "Hey!"

Troy lifted his head enough to make eye contact. "What?"

She scowled and folded her arms. "You're just going to come in and say _ugh_ at me?"

He sighed a theatrically long sigh, then did it again for good measure. When he saw she hadn't budged, he hauled himself to his feet and took the necessary two steps to embrace and kiss her.

She started giggling halfway through the kiss. He broke off, a quizzical expression on his face. "What?"

"I was just thinking about how everybody in the AC Repair Annex is at your beck and call, and here you are kissing me on command." She hugged him close to her, almost losing her balance on the barstool. "You don't demand kisses from anyone any of your Gormenghastlies, do you?"

Troy chuckled.

"You don't, do you?" Britta asked, more seriously. She looked him square in the eye, a little afraid of what she might see.

"Of course not, dummy," he said affectionately.

"Okay, so long as that's settled." She released the hug. "What's with the ughs?"

Troy took a step back, so he could sit on the armrest of the couch. "It's the stupid Winter Gala. Every year the AC Repair Annex does this joint Christmas-New-Year's-Kwanzaa-Heat-Pump-Appreciation-Week party, right? It's all paid for with cash, for some reason — they paid for it with salt and barley until Vice-Dean Laybourne modernized. I don't get it either." Troy shrugged. "But the cashbox for the party is supposed to have thousands of dollars in it to pay for a band and streamers and stuff,. It was discovered empty this morning. Everybody's blaming everybody else."

"Oy," said Britta, trying to sound like Jon Stewart.

"Yeah. We wouldn't have found out about it until the ceremonial settling of the debts on New Year's Eve," Troy continued, "except that I was like, no, let's give most of that money to the food bank on 45th street. And then, empty." He threw up his hands. "Jerry says there was money in it the last time he made a deposit, right after the harvest festival, so the box got emptied in the last couple of weeks."

"Unless Jerry's lying," said Britta.

"Jerry wouldn't do that!" Troy looked affronted. "I mean, I don't think he'd do that."

"People do stupid things." Britta spoke from personal experience. "I know. I lived in New York… who else had access to the cashbox? Where was it kept?"

"In the, um…" Troy screwed his eyes shut to remember. "In the Vault of Broken Dreams and Solar Power. Which is locked."

"And Jerry has the only key?"

"Yeah," Troy said, nodding. "Well, I don't know about _only_ key. He has a key. He has a bunch of keys, like fifty keys, actually. I don't know how he keeps track."

"You said everybody was blaming everybody else," Britta said, because this conversation, however expositional, was way more interesting to her than studying Evo Psych. "Who's everybody?"

"Jerry said it was the bursar. I guess the bursar has a key to the vault? The bursar said it had to be the Maiden of Everflowing Currents, but I think that he just doesn't like her. The Maiden of Everflowing Currents says she didn't even know there was a cashbox. None of them have bought new cars or fur coats in the last couple of weeks," he added. "I checked that already… I mean, it's not like I care about the Winter Gala at all, even a little bit, if I had my way we'd stay home and play Mario Kart? But I don't like knowing that somebody's lying to me."

"Maybe nobody is," offered Britta. "Maybe somebody snuck into Jerry's office or the bursar's office, and stole the key, and got into the vault, and then put the key back after. Well, I guess it's obvious that somebody did do that. I mean, somebody you haven't asked."

"I guess." Troy sighed. "I wanted to dress up and do an investigation with Abed, but he's editing some project."

"You could investigate with me," offered Britta. "I've basically mastered all this material anyway," she added, tapping the textbook in front of her. 

Troy perked up, intrigued. "That could be cool. Your costumes are always all sexy," he said.

"I'm not going to dress up in a costume for the AC Repair Annex," Britta told him flatly.

"Aw, man! But you dress up all sexy!Sexy dinosaur, sexy squirrel..."

"For you," Britta told him. "Not for Jerry."

* * *

He had intended to drive home after they finished recording the video, but instead Jeff sat in his car, in the dark, thinking. He'd had the radio on, until he realized that he hadn't heard a word of it, and turned it off. The cold brown night would have been better if there were snow, he thought. Almost no snow so far this year. Was that a good omen or a bad one? Annie would certainly have gotten home by now, for dinner. Jeff had deliberately parked where he couldn't see the front door of her building, because that would've made him feel like a crazy stalker.

Now that it was out of his hands, Jeff was free to imagine all the worst possible responses to the video. Annie enraged that he would try to end their fight by apologizing and making what he thought was a nice gesture; she could make a convincing argument that the whole thing was self-aggrandizing. Annie contemptuous of his professions of love, mocking his word choices. A vengeful Annie spreading an edited remix of the video around the school. In the edited remix Jeff would go on at length about his love of junior high school girls, or something. Then, prison…

The buzz of his phone distracted him. Annie, calling.

He answered immediately. "Hello?" His voice was thick in his ears.

"Jeff?" Annie's voice quavered, as though it were an effort of will to speak. "Jeff, I just —" She broke off to sniffle, loudly, into the phone. She sounded miserable, like she'd been crying. "I just saw your video."

"It's okay," Jeff said quickly. He wasn't sure what he was consoling her about, but he hated to hear her so sad. "It's okay."

"Of course it's okay, you doofus!" Annie made a noise into the phone that it took Jeff a minute to process. Laughter. Not snide, mocking laughter like her mother might make, but happy, relieved laughter.

He felt himself relax. Jeff hadn't even noticed how it seemed every muscle in his body had tensed up. "Oh, good."

"Yeah, good," she agreed. Annie laughed and wept. Jeff pictured her, lying down on her bed, phone pressed up against her ear. "I love you too, all right?"

"Absolutely that's all right," Jeff assured her. "Do you want to —"

"Would you mind —" she started, at the same time.

They both broke off.

"Wow, we are killing this, huh?" When Annie spoke Jeff could hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah. I, uh." He cleared his throat. "I'm actually in my car parked a block from your apartment, if you want to…"

"I'll be right down!" A few scraping noises and thumps came through the phone. "I'm just grabbing some stuff."

She should keep stuff at his place, Jeff thought. It would save time. And he should get her a key, too, because… because he wanted her to have one. "Take your time," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Britta had kind of expected the bursar of the AC Repair Annex to wear a robe with stars on it and maybe a pointy hat. That was what a bursar was, right? A kind of wizard. She was relieved and also disappointed to discover he was just a guy in chinos and a polo shirt, middle-aged, glasses. Chris Busey, bursar, bore a slightly haunted expression, but Britta could chalk that up to too many carbs. His office, deep within the bowels of the Annex, was likewise disappointing: small and beige with some sickly-looking potted plants.

The bursar asked her a question as she glanced around the room. Photos of a small boy and cats and the bursar with a woman… some kind of superhero logo coffee mug, X-Man or Super somebody. "Will that be all, Consort-Royal?"

Britta startled. "I literally just sat down."

"I have a mountain of extension requests to get through," the bursar replied, testily, "and the network keeps forcing my computer to reboot every half-hour, so…"

Britta held up her hands. "Hey, that sucks. Have you complained to Troy about it?"

The bursar grimaced. "Our IT department is housed in the Land of Wind and Ghosts, because somebody thought that would be a funny _Simpsons_ reference."

"Okay, that sounds great," said Britta. "There's just one more thing." She stared at the bursar until he cleared his throat.

"One more thing?" he prompted.

Britta wondered how Jeff and Annie had fun doing this kind of thing, or Troy and Abed for that matter… probably it involved enjoying spending time with the other person. She wished Troy was there. He was supposed to be there.

Instead he was adjudicating some kind of closed-door meeting between three different plumbers, for reasons that nobody had shared with Britta. Of course, if he'd really wanted to, he could have gotten out of it. He was the Truest Repairman, after all, the sovereign of the entire Air Conditioning Repair Annex. No one could gainsay him; wasn't that the whole point of being an absolute monarch?

Which meant that he'd rather spend the morning lounging on his throne and passing judgment on accused criminals and treaty proposals and bikini contests, or whatever he was actually doing… Britta sighed. Troy had promised no bikini contests, no beauty pageants, nothing in that whole area.

"Consort-Royal?" the bursar asked, again.

"Hmm?" Britta realized she hadn't actually asked the question yet. "Sorry, I was… sorry."

The bursar glared at her and cleared his throat, again.

"According to Troy, Jerry said that you were the most likely person to have stolen from the cashbox. Why do you think Jerry might make that accusation? Also, Troy said you accused a maiden. Why?"

"That is two questions," grumbled the bursar, "but whatever." He took off his glasses and rested his elbows on his desk, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "I'm sorry to be so short-tempered, Consort-Royal. My wife has sleep apnea and neither of us have slept well in weeks."

Britta made a small sympathetic sound.

"I don't know why Jerry fingered me," the bursar said, straightening up and putting his glasses back on. "But probably it's just because he and I have the only keys to the vault, and he didn't do it."

Britta nodded. "And you say you didn't, either?"

The bursar glared at her a moment before answering. "No."

Britta thought about this for a moment. "But you think that some maiden maybe did?"

"I highly doubt it," the bursar declared. "Your boyfriend, the current head boss in charge of this madhouse, asked me to name a suspect. So I did. I swear, the sooner all this jackassery goes the way of the dodo, the better."

"You haven't bought, like, an expensive sleep apnea machine, or anything like that, have you?"

He scoffed. "There's supposed to be a thing getting shipped in from China but it's backordered."

"Backordered so you could like bribe a dude and get it on time?" Britta guessed.

The bursar gave her that long sullen glare again. "No."

"You're saying, I just want to be clear, here, you're saying you didn't steal the money?"

"Wow, you're really bad at this," said the bursar.

* * *

Annie lay on Jeff's bed, eyes closed, listening to his shower. The sound of water hitting tile shifted and cycled as, presumably, the body between the showerhead and the floor moved. She tried to decide how to put into words how she felt, besides 'good' and 'sleepy.'

A big part of it, she realized, was _relief_. Relief to be back to normal. Relief to be back on track. And that was odd, wasn't it? Should she really look at this situation, and say to herself, _Annie, you missed the LSAT and your mother is back in your life and you and your boyfriend of, depending when you started counting, arguably as little as six weeks… you and your boyfriend of six weeks had a fight that lasted almost a whole day, and then he told you he loved you and you said it back to him, and now you're lying on his bed with your clothes all over the floor while he showers, and the only reason you're not in the shower with him is that you've tried that and it's more awkward and less fun than it sounds and even so you're thinking about getting up and climbing in there with him anyway… ah, normalcy!_

But it did feel normal... or at least, it felt right. Some muscle that had been clenched for days was finally relaxed. Maybe 'normal' was the wrong word. She felt relief at being in this situation, rather than anxiety, and that was good. At the same time, though, was it actually good? Annie was used to anxiety: anxiety about the future, anxiety about Jeff, anxiety about Greendale and her friends and the fragile little rut she'd dug for herself. In this moment, she was relaxed and drowsy and filled with a deep sense that everything was going to be okay. And the very novelty of that was something that, if she hadn't been so relaxed, she would have been tense about.

Annie smiled to herself, lying on Jeff's bed. She marveled at the crazy circular logic that swept around her brain, but she did it from a safe remove. Then, on a whim, she rose and stretched and padded over to the bathroom. She slid the shower curtain aside just enough to slip into the tub, behind him.

"Don't mind me," she said. She leaned back against the cold tiled wall, steadying herself with one hand on a built-in soapdish.

Jeff turned, startled, and for a split second she was worried that he would slip and fall — and it occurred to her only in that moment that she might be unwelcome — but then he grinned at her. "Where did you come from? I'm almost finished," he added, not waiting for her answer.

"Don't hurry on my account," Annie told him. "I'm not in any rush."

* * *

Britta sat in the back pew of the Chapel of Regrets (one of seven chapels built into the AC Repair Annex) and regretted. She regretted cajoling Troy into playing investigators, with her subbing for Abed. She regretted pressing on with it anyway when Troy had cancelled. She regretted getting all hepped up on a distraction from Evo Psych. And she regretted failing to win the bursar's trust and getting him to confide in her… So far the score for Monday was Britta 1, rest of the world 5, shut up rest of the world you aren't so great.

"Psst! Consort-Royal!"

Britta swiveled her head around. The whisper was coming from somewhere nearby, but she couldn't find its source.

"Britta! Up here!"

She looked up, at the ventilation ducts overhead. Large and sturdy, they pumped chilled and warmed air throughout the annex. In the darkness on the other side of one of the gratings, she could see the head and shoulders of a man.

"Hi!" the man said. He might have waved; it was hard to tell.

Britta squinted, trying to identify him. "Teddy? Teddy the mead-clown?"

"You remember me!" Teddy seemed genuinely gratified, which was nice. Point for Britta, she decided. Britta 2, rest of the world 5, watch out I'm coming up fast.

"What're you doing in there?" she asked him.

"I go where the mead needs me," Teddy said, as if this were a thing that a normal person might say in answer to a reasonable question. "We act on the line and we brew the potions of the queen."

"Okay, cool," Britta said, because otherwise it was going to be a whole big thing and Teddy did seem happy to see her.

"Do you want some mead?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I could go either way. Also, you're in a duct."

"Heh, yeah. Hold on." Teddy vanished with a loud clang that reverberated through the room. More banging came from inside the ducts, and then somehow Teddy was walking into the chapel through a side door. "I remembered halfway down that I don't actually have any mead right now," he told her. "I'm sorry. I can run and get some; I'm supposed to have it ready at all times."

"That's okay, Teddy," Britta assured him. "Don't worry about it."

He nodded. "So, uh, ma'am," he said after a moment. "Whatcha doing? Praying for a healthy child?"

"No, I… what? No." Britta again considered follow-up questions and decided against them. "I'm investigating the stolen money. You know there was money stolen, right? It might be a secret, I forget."

"It is a secret, but I know about it." Seeing her confusion, he explained. "The honeydew of wisdom flows everywhere and the bees have much to teach. Did you talk to Vice-Dean Jerry?"

"Yeah."

"Did you talk to the bursar?"

"Yeah."

"Did you talk to the weird stranger? I have his address."

"Yeah. Wait, no. No, I didn't… what?" Britta regretted saying so many variations on _wait what?_ in a single conversation, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do. "Who's the weird stranger? What card?"

"The day before yesterday, a guy came in dressed all weird. Kind of like the bursar, with pants and a shirt that were made of two different materials? Instead of a jumpsuit? No offense."

"Okay."

"I mean, you're the Consort-Royal. You can dress however you want. No one will judge you, ma'am."

"Sure. The guy had a… an address, you said?" Britta asked doggedly. Her stubborn refusal to let the conversation be sidetracked impressed her enough that she awarded herself another point. Britta 3, rest of the world 5, neener neener.

Teddy nodded. "Yeah. He met with the bursar, and the close-up magician, and Prof. Schmidt. I don't know about what. Afterwards I was checking the mead carafes in the room, like you do. I saw he'd left his hat, so I went after him. Tracked him all the way downtown to an office building. Left his hat with the receptionist. It was one of those little knit ones, you know, they don't come down to your ears?"

Britta frowned. The bursar hadn't mentioned a private meeting with a mysterious hat-clad (or hatless, now?) man. But then, she hadn't asked. "Okay," she said. "I'm getting bored with this whole investigation thing, so, gimme the address."

* * *

The office building looked like it was big enough to house several Greendale Community Colleges, but according to the directory in the lobby, three-quarters of the floors were empty and available for lease. The seventh and eighth floors, though, were home to Holloway, Rabinowitz, Holloway, and McCormick, LLC. Apparently it was a law firm of some kind. The lobby security guard eyed Britta and Troy, but said nothing.

"Do we have a plan?" Troy asked her as they rode the elevator up.

"Uh, sure. We say that we want to sue someone. Or hire them to sue someone, I guess," said Britta.

"That's cool," said Troy. He grunted ruminatively. "I could pretend to be your lawyer, although I should probably have dressed up more for that…"

"You can't be my lawyer —"

"What, a black twenty-three-year-old in a t-shirt can't be a lawyer?" Troy asked, feigning offense. "Is Barry O is or is not president?"

Britta smiled. "I mean, dumbass, if I already have a lawyer then why would I be hiring another one? Besides, I should be the lawyer. I'm older and my shirt has buttons."

Troy conceded the point. "So, just so we're on the same page, I'm _not_ your lawyer?" he asked, as the elevator doors opened.

"Definitely not," Britta said. She stepped out into another lobby, Troy on her heels. This one had several couches scattered about, also potted plants. A sign, HOLLOWAY RABINOWITZ HOLLOWAY & MCCORMICK, hung on the wall behind a large receptionist's desk.

"Can I help you?" asked the tired-looking receptionist.

"Yes! I'm Bri…nda… Starr," said Britta.

"And I'm her personal physician, Doctor, uh, Batman," supplied Troy. 

Britta elbowed him. "I have an appointment with… somebody?"

The receptionist nodded. "Yes?"

"And it's for… right now?" Britta would have cited a specific time, but, she realized, she had no idea what time it was.

"Okay," the receptionist said. Her voice was chipper — a bright-eyed _okay!_ that wouldn't have seemed out of place from a cheerleader. But her facial expression made it clear that the woman was simply counting the minutes until her work day ended. "Do you know who the appointment is with?"

"No I do not," Britta said. "But it's about a lawsuit. That I want to file. Sexual harassment," she told the receptionist as if confiding in her.

"Okay then! Please have a seat," suggested the receptionist. "Someone will be out to deal with you, I mean, meet with you shortly."

"Is the somebody going to be a security guard, do you think?" Troy whispered to Britta as they sat down in the farthest corner of the lobby.

"I don't know, maybe… what do you and Abed do when you're in a situation like this?"

"I don't know," Troy said. "We're never in a situation like this — we always have costumes. I told you we should have stopped at home and gotten costumes."

"Yeah, you're a real infiltration expert, Doctor Batman!" Britta snickered.

Troy's reply died in his throat as the elevator doors opened again. He gasped. "Get down!"

Britta didn't duck down fast enough for him, apparently, because as he slid off of his seat and into the narrow space hidden by the back of the couch, he pulled her down, too.

"What?" hissed Britta, falling silent as a not wholly unfamiliar voice from the direction of the receptionist's desk. 

"Hello Marjorie dear." Annie's mother's voice. "Tell Buffy I'm here, would you please? I'll be in Room F; I need to make some calls."

Britta froze, her spine chilled (something she'd always assumed was just a colorful expression). 

The receptionist's reply was as swift as it was unctuous. "Of course, Ms. Parker-Edison."

 _All she did was say hello_ , Britta thought. _Why am I terrified?_

She and Troy waited almost a minute before slowly peeking over the couch. Sadie Parker-Edison had apparently moved deeper into the law office, down a hallway. "Okay," Britta whispered. "We need a plan."

"Yeah," whispered Troy. They both looked at one another expectantly.

"Um, how about this. We pull a fire alarm." Britta was making this up as she went along. "Alarm goes off, noise everywhere."

Troy nodded. "With you so far."

"Then we dash down that hall as everyone evacuates. Lawyers and Sadie and people see us. They call security. We get arrested…"

"Yeah, then what?" Troy asked.

Britta winced. "Never mind, bad idea. Okay. New plan. We wait until Sadie leaves…"

Troy groaned. "We don't have that kind of time! I'm hungry!" he said, softly but urgently. "Count to ten and then just walk down the hall," he told her, then rose to his feet. "Excuse me! Marjorie!" he called out, striding angrily towards the receptionist's desk. "I've been waiting to see Holloway for literal minutes now! I'm a busy trauma surgeon and my time has value!"

"I'm sorry, 'Doctor Batman,' " the receptionist replied. She sounded much less solicitous towards Troy than she had towards Sadie. "If you could just take a seat for a moment…"

"Lives are at stake, woman!" thundered Troy.

Britta remembered, abruptly, what he'd told her. Seeing the receptionist's attention wholly consumed by Troy, Britta rose and walked calmly in the direction of the hallway that Sadie must have gone down. The hall turned a corner, around which was a large open area of cubicles, lined with what looked like attorney offices. 

Rather than be spotted by a paralegal, Britta quickly ducked into the ladies' room.

She quickly ducked back out, however, when she saw Sadie Parker-Edison examining her hair in the ladies' room mirror. _Probably_ Sadie hadn't spotted her. Still way too conspicuous. She almost ducked into another room, but it was an occupied office — the lawyer within looked up as she started to enter, but only caught a flash of blonde hair.

Third time's the charm. Britta found herself in yet another room off the main area, this one some kind of conference room. She circled the long table, not sure what, if anything, she was looking for. Sneaking into the law office had been a bad plan. Troy was probably getting arrested. Annie's Mom would make her huntsman bring Britta out to the woods and cut out her heart and Britta would plead and the huntsman would bring Annie's Mom a deer heart instead, and that poor deer…

She gasped as, unbelievably, Sadie Parker-Edison came into the room. Instinctively Britta dove under the table. Actually what happened was that was her legs went out from under her; Britta got a glimpse of Sadie engrossed in her phone, and then she was on the well-padded carpet. She crawled under the table, unsure what to do, and watched Sadie sit down, high-heeled pumps barely reaching the floor.

 

END ACT TWO

 


	12. Espionage in the Romantic Age Act 3

ESPIONAGE IN THE ROMANTIC ERA

ACT THREE

 

After the brainstorming died down Annie separated out all the unworkable ideas (her favorite was _have grandchildren, refuse her access_ ) and took a look at what she'd written.

LIST OF WAYS TO THWART MY MOTHER

File something with a court? (J. lawyering) 

Invalid proxies  
Voidable board meetings  
Current board makeup is "totally illegitimate cluster-f-word" — J.

Find missing board members, entice them into rescinding proxy statements

Voicemails  
Credit card activity  
AA meetings  
Email?  
Dean?

Pierce: sleeper agent or double agent?  
Pump for info re her plans  
Accept his offer to make call

 

 

"I feel like we're missing avenues of attack," she said. "Like we're playing her game."

"Well, this is Greendale we're talking about," Jeff replied. "Even odds this somehow ends with you and her bowling, or playing paintball, or something."

Annie snickered. "I wish! I'd paint her up good. But you go to war with the army you have. You'll write the letter?" she asked Jeff.

"Of course, of course. The scariest, lawyeriest letter I can," Jeff agreed. "And I'll submit a letter to the court. Corporate lit isn't my strong suit but I'll manage…" He winced. "Wait, no. I can't actually submit a letter to the court; my bar number isn't valid."

Annie waved away the concern. "So just the scary letter for Mother. If it comes to the real court, um, stuff, then we can get someone to actually sign off on things." She waited until she saw his nod. "You do that, and I'll talk to Pierce and the dean."

"I should talk to the dean," mused Jeff. "No offense, but he likes me more than you."

"Uh huh," she scoffed. "Okay. This is… well, it's a start."

"It's more than anybody else is doing," he assured her. "And when have you and I failed at one of these things?"

* * *

Britta's phone was, thankfully, set to silent.

 

**TROY to BRITTA, 1543:**

**Welp security walked me out**

**I'm at the deli across the street**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

 

Britta started to tap out a reply, but froze, yet again, when another pair of feet entered the conference room. A man, dark pants, black sneakers. He sat heavily in a chair a few seats down from Sadie.

"Ed," Sadie said by way of greeting.

"Good afternoon to you too, Sadie," the man replied. He sounded older, slightly gruff. Britta's first thought was _cop_.

"Mmm-hmm." There was a brief clatter from the table above — Sadie setting down her phone, maybe. "You've been to the Annex."

"Yeah," the man, Ed, said slowly. "They're a tough nut to crack. Almost everybody likes the kid. Ones who don't have mostly left, I guess."

"Mostly, you say."

Ed grunted. "There's a couple of guys who'd like to see the so-called Truest Repairman taken to the Caverns of Endless Ice, if you know what I mean."

Sadie's tone was itself an expanse of endless ice. "I'm sure I don't."

 _Recorder, recorder, can't this thing record?_ Britta turned her phone over in her hands, looking for the functionality she needed.Nothing.There were a bunch of buttons with small indecipherable symbols on them: an icon of an ear, an exclamation point, a fish, a ghost…Definitely she didn't want to set off an alarm or otherwise make noise.That left, as her only real option, text messages.

 

**BRITTA to TROY, 1545:**

**Ed. Everybody likes the kid. Couple guys want see TR in ice cave.**

 

"But it'll take more than just a couple of paint-bombs and some skunk scent to get them going," he continued. "Have to be more involved than the thing the other day."

"For the 'thing the other day' I had to lie about my identity to the test company and update 'my' contact information." Britta could hear the quotation marks Sadie was probably making with her hands. "It's difficult to imagine being more involved than that."

"More involved for me, I mean. A more involved project."

"I'm already committed to the audit on Thursday. Eight o'clock sharp. You know what I need you to…"

"I know, I know!" Ed sounded crabby. "Breaking into the building is one thing, but.. To depose the Barnes, you'll have to present him with the 'Sacred Chalice of Rixx' and the 'Holy Rings of Bay-dah-zed,' which my sources tell me are guarded by trolls…"

 

**BRITTA to TROY, 1546:**

**Paint bombs skunk thing test update contact info**

**Depose TR sacred chalice holy rings butt trolls**

**Audit Thursday 8**

**Butt not butt**

**But !!**

 

**TROY to BRITTA, 1547:**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

**Have you had a stroke?**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

 

**BRITTA to TROY, 1548:**

**Eavesdropping notes**

**Also what does it say about our society when the black man is escargot out by security when the wit woman travels freely?**

**White not wit**

**Esoteric not escorted**

 

Spelling 'eavesdropping' and making the phone take it took enough of Britta's concentration that she missed a little of Sadie and Ed's conversation. Something about the risk and expense not being worth the reward. Ed mentioned a 'usual rate'; Sadie promised him she'd pay it. Ed would hold off on dungeon delving, then, apparently. He rose to leave, abruptly.

Britta had assumed Sadie would leave then, too, but instead she stayed seated for some reason. Britta sat and waited.

 

**TROY to BRITTA, 1553:**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

**[[ERROR: Your phone does not support emoji]]**

 

**BRITTA to TROY, 1556:**

**Hiding under a table like a badass**

**Trapped until she leaves**

 

"Hello," Sadie said warmly. Britta looked up, afraid that she'd found Britta under the table — but no. Sadie chuckled. "Indeed."

She was on the phone, Britta realized.

"I know, it's terrible. Yes, I… I agree! Pierce, I'm on your side on this, I am." Britta scowled. _Of course_ she was talking to Pierce. _Of course_. "I don't want that any more than you do… Absolutely. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. I'm sure we can find a way to move forward without involving any more lawyers… Well, that too. Mmm."

Britta gagged as Sadie's tone turned sultry.

"I had plans but I can move them. Wonderful… yes, I look forward to it. Oh, there is one other thing," Sadie added, as if she'd just remembered something. "I received a call from the bar association requesting information about the Law Studies program… I told you, we should have been proactive about this."

Sadie snorted derisively, presumably in response to something Pierce said. "I assure you I did not. Frankly I think we're very lucky to have received any advance notice at all. I don't know when, exactly. Sometime next week… No, that name didn't come up but I'm sure his unique status as regards the bar is a catalyst to the audit. Well, they didn't use the word audit, but… oh, I agree! …Yes, just so. You're, hmm, you're preaching to the choir, Pierce. You don't need to convince me of anything…" 

She spoke as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, Britta thought. Then it occurred to her what a bizarre idiom that was. Of course butter would melt in a person's mouth; if it didn't, they'd be weirdly cold. Or dead. And Sadie definitely didn't sound like a zombie. Maybe, Britta theorized, it derived from a story about a guy who tricked people into thinking he could carry butter around in his mouth, but he was a con artist. He'd take the butter and flee to the next town, where he'd again try to pull the scam and convince the local rubes that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth…?

Sadie continued to vocally massage Pierce. "Please believe me when I say there's nothing I would like more than to see her happy. To see her again, happy. I just don't want her to make the mistakes I'm prone to, especially with regards to men… so we agree," she said brightly. "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Trying to conceal anything from the auditor would just put Greendale, and thus my daughter, at risk — which is not acceptable… listen to me, I sound like a mother bear. I just want to protect my cub."

Britta gagged again.

Sadie chuckled, presumably at something Pierce said. "Of course. I'll see you then.I'm… really looking forward to it.Goodbye."There was an odd catch in Sadie's throat at the last line.Britta wondered: could that be sincerity?Was that even possible?

After Sadie rose and left, Britta counted to one hundred before crawling out from under the conference table. Then she walked, boldly and confidently, back down the hall to the lobby, into the elevator, and out of the building.Britta may have gotten a couple of confused looks, but she didn't break stride and no one called out to stop her.

Britta 1, Annie's Mom 0, _suck it Annie's Mom_.

* * *

For dinner Jeff would have gone out, but Annie suggested they make something, and that just meant going out to the grocery store and buying food and then bringing it home to cook it — extra steps added to a process that had plenty of steps already. However extra steps, when they were done with Annie, were something to be cherished, so he agreed readily. They'd made dinner together enough that they both knew Jeff would do the bulk of the work (he knew his kitchen, he was more discriminating than she was in choice of recipe and ingredients, and he had a decade of cooking experience on her) while Annie commented, assisted, and flirted.

 

_DEAD SIMPLE PASTA MEAT DISH FOR TWO_

 

_1/3 lb sweet Italian pork sausage_

_1/4 lb whole-wheat fusilli pasta_

_Fresh basil, more than you think_

_Maybe an onion if you're feeling it_

_Two medium-sized bell peppers, two different colors looks better_

_A third bell pepper if you didn't go with onion_

_1/2 jar of organic tomato-basil pasta sauce (this is what makes it dead simple)_

 

_Directions: Cook ingredients, cutting them up first as appropriate, and mix them together. It's simple. Just don't undercook the onion or overcook the pasta._

 

"So," Jeff said, eventually, "do you want to talk about yesterday?"

Annie bobbed her head. "What's to talk about? I mean, it was a really awful day and we had a fight. Which I don't want to dwell on. I told you about Mother and the LSAT."

"Rapidly and dismissively, but yeah, you did." He shrugged. "You are of course a magnificently powerful and self-assured woman, and I support and endorse anything and everything you do. Great thing about you being so awesome is that I can trust you not to do anything stupid and crazy."

Jeff stirred the sauce a bit, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She did that self-conscious, pleased head-bob thing she did sometimes.

He smiled. "Wickedly cunning and crazy, of course, that's a whole different story."

Annie let out an aggrieved gasp, but he knew the difference between sincere and ironic aggrievement; it was the latter.

"There's ample history of you making terrible decisions," Jeff continued. 

"Well, I am sleeping with you freely and of my own will," she admitted wryly.

"It's true, not every choice you make is bad," he said. "Grabbing an overnight bag on the way downstairs, for instance."

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking that… if you wanted to… I could find some space in a closet or chest of drawers… if you wanted to leave an overnight bag's worth of your things here." Jeff tried to sound as light as he had a few moments ago, but the anxious eagerness he felt crept into his voice regardless. "You know, just to save some trouble."

She was doing that thing where she was extremely pleased and pretending to be only slightly interested. "Oh, yeah?"

"Why not, you know?" Jeff shrugged, and feigned total attention to the sauce he was stirring.

"I could see that saving some trouble." Annie hopped up onto the countertop she'd been leaning against. "Do I get a drawer?"

"Drawer, closet, bathroom counter space… the apartment's your oyster." Jeff gestured around them. He hoped he didn't sound overeager. The idea of Annie invading his apartment and taking it over, piece by piece, was more appealing than he would have thought. But it was way too soon to ask her to move in. Way too soon. Not even two months. Plus three years. It wasn't as if they were strangers… He realized Annie was looking at him with a knowing smile. Surely she wasn't as good at reading his expressions as he was at reading hers. Surely, Jeff told himself. He cleared his throat. "And I want to get you a spare key." He strained to sound casual. "Just, you know, in case."

"Oh, I already have one." Annie sounded nonplussed. "I thought you knew — Abed gave me his."

Jeff let out an annoyed grunt. "Abed had a key? I never gave Abed a key… did I give Abed a key?"

"Well, he got it somewhere. And then he gave it to me. Although he might have made another copy for himself…" She sat silently for a moment. "Do you remember when we were in the historiography classroom?"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced her way. "Of course."

"After," she clarified. "You said something about how we were both anxious because we were worried that this was going to explode on the launch pad."

"I remember," he said, wondering where she was going with this.

"It was an exciting, anxious time, and… I was just thinking that… I still worry about that. I mean, last night I was afraid that we'd broken up."

Before he quite knew what he was doing, Jeff had stepped over to where Annie sat and embraced her. "Hey," he said softly. 

"It's okay," she replied. "I get that it's okay."

"I'm not… crap." Jeff winced as he caught a glimpse of Annie's back. He'd moved to embrace her without first setting down his wooden spoon, so he'd gotten a dribble of red sauce across the back of her sweater.

"What…?" Annie tried to follow his sight-line, but couldn't see her own back.

"I got tomato on your cardigan," Jeff said, a little sheepishly.

"What? Jeez!" Annie pulled the garment off and inspected the damage. She groaned. "I really liked this sweater."

"Well, I don't think it's ruined —"

"I think it is." She frowned at the stain. "We can try daubing it, but…"

A few minutes later they'd accomplished as much as they were going to. Paper towels daubed off the sauce but left a stain. Running cold water from the inside of the cardigan out, pushing the stain out of the fabric, helped but didn't eliminate the discoloration. 

"I'll get it dry-cleaned," Jeff declared. "They've gotten much worse stains out of my suits."

"Maybe." Annie stared ruefully at the cashmere.

"I'm sorry," he said, backing up a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But, you know, you're not about to dump me over this."

She looked at him, as though considering.

"You're not," he repeated, only slightly less certain.

Annie's stern expression broke into a goofy grin. "You're right, you're right. I just…" She threw up her hands. "I don't know."

"It turns out we can have a fight without breaking up being on the table," Jeff said. "I don't know if that's common — I think we may be relationship geniuses. Invented a whole new thing. We _are_ killing this."

Annie laughed. "That is true and also a good point." Then she seemed to sober slightly. "But I'm… I want to be an adult about this."

"About the sweater?"

"About _this_." She gestured to the narrow space between them. "Us. I don't want to be the anxious junior high school girl you keep worrying about disappointing."

"I didn't call you a junior high school girl…"

"Whatever. You know what I mean."

"Annie," Jeff said, taking both her shoulders in his hands. "It's okay. Frankly I'm terrified. I have a pretty lousy track record with relationships. We're getting close to tying for the longest I've ever had."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"When you're your age, that's cute – never been in a real relationship, what do you expect at twenty-two? But by your mid-30s you're supposed to have mastered… I don't know what. Leaving the toilet seat up."

"Down."

"See?" Jeff cried. "That's how little I know! But that day in the classroom with Vicki…"

"That's how you think of it? The day with Vicki?"

"That day," he continued doggedly, "we agreed that when we were crazy, panicky, upset, enraged, heartbroken… all those things, we'd at least try to talk about it."

Annie nodded.

"And we have. This here, last night, it's proof of concept. Just as we succeed wildly at all other things, so too we succeed wildly at relationship-building. Plus I'd want to talk to you anyway, you know? You're my best friend; if I have a big fight with my girlfriend and I feel like shit, who else am I going to call? Abed?I mean, I did call Abed, but not for advice."

Annie covered her mouth with her hand. "I talked to Britta," she admitted.

Jeff reeled. "Britta!"

"I know! And it helped!"

"Britta?"

"I know!"

They looked at one another for a moment.

"I love you and I'm sorry about your sweater," Jeff said. "And for standing you up last night."

"I love you and it's okay, you're going to get it dry-cleaned," Annie said. "And it's okay, it was an honest mistake and I overreacted. And you're making me dinner now."

Jeff stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The pasta and red sauce ended up kind of overcooked, but they were okay with it.

 

 

 


	13. Binding Arbitration for Beginners Act 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as per usual, to bethanyactually and to amrywiol.

BINDING ARBITRATION FOR BEGINNERS (PART I OF II)

ACT ONE

 

"Settle down, children!" screeched Chang, as he struggled to gain control of the room.It was time for the final Historiography class session of the semester to start. Attendance was total; Chang had announced he would reveal the class's final exam during the session.

Shirley, seated in the front row, had her fingers crossed for a diorama.It would mean less studying than a written exam, and she still had several boxes of diorama crafting supplies in her garage.Given it was Chang, a diorama didn't seem unlikely, either; certainly it was more in keeping with his stated goal of minimizing his own work than, say, essay questions.

Still, knowing Chang, he would come up with something that he could grade quickly but that would take a lot of work on their part.A true-false test, maybe, Shirley speculated.Or multiple-choice.She turned to her right, where Annie was sitting.

"Do you think…?" Shirley's question died as she saw Annie was half-turned away from her, exchanging knowing looks and furtive smiles with her boyfriend.Which, good for them, but by God they'd been at the sickeningly-cute stage of their relationship for what felt like four years.It was far too early in the morning for Shirley to deal with it.Why couldn't they be more like Britta and Troy?Those two, you could hardly tell they were a couple.

"I said settle down!" screamed Chang, and fired a gun into the ceiling.

Silence fell like a blanket on the class.

"That's better!"Chang brandished the gun, which, upon closer inspection, Shirley could see was only a cap pistol."You people are the worst!Not just… Winger, what the hell are you doing?"

Shirley discreetly turned her head to see.Jeff was frozen roughly halfway out of his seat, his long legs folded up under him as he leaned forward and to one side.

"Nothing," he said tightly.

"You look ridiculous!What… you thought I was going to shoot someone!"Chang sounded offended."You were going to what, slam-tackle me?Racist!"

Jeff sputtered."I wasn't going to… how is that racist?!"

"Disgusting," Chang said with a shake of his head."Also stupid, what, you think you're bulletproof?"

"Firstly," Jeff retorted, "it's a cap gun!There are no bullets!Second, I wasn't going to tackle you, I was just trying to get between you and Annie!"

"Aw!" Annie and Shirley let out the same pleased whimper.

"Stupid move.You should have gone for my kneecaps," Chang declared.He signaled for Jeff to get up and approach him."C'mon, I'll show you."

"No!"

The teacher snickered."Oh, you think you can't handle it?"

Shirley craned to see the back of the class, wondering why Pierce hadn't stepped in.This was, she was pretty sure, the exact kind of thing that he'd been sitting in on Chang's classes to prevent.Seeing Pierce's seat was empty, she swore under her breath.It figured that the one day Chang was going to shoot a cap gun and challenge Jeff to wrestle him would be the day Pierce skipped.

Jeff rose to his feet, as if he was going to wrestle Chang, but then he came to his senses and sat back down.

"Ha, didn't think so!" Chang leered at Jeff a moment, then turned his attention back to the class as though nothing had happened."Now I know I promised that today I would hand out the assignment for your final exam, but before I do that I want everybody to take a moment and think.Ask yourselves, what has this class meant to you?What have you learned?” He suddenly spun around and pointed. “Vicki!"  

 "What?!" Vicki yelped.

"What have you learned?"

Vicki swallowed nervously, casting her eyes around for help.When no one intervened, she shuddered."That… that Señor Chang is always right?"

Chang's eyes lit up."Nice!That's good!Everybody could take a lesson from Vicki here!The first rule in historiography is, always flatter the man with a gun.Repeat!"

"'Always flatter the man with a gun,' " the class repeated.

"Great job!" Chang clapped his hands together."So that does it for today.Get out of here… why aren't you all pleased?" His eyes narrowed."Usually when I dismiss class a minute and a half in, you guys are happy about it."

Annie raised her hand.

"Ugh," said Chang."Bad enough you have to sit in the front row, bad enough you drag Winger up here… you're raising your hand, now?I thought this school had taught you better than that."

Abashed, Annie lowered her hand.

"You said that you were going to tell us about the final today," Shirley offered, in her sweetest voice.

"I did?" Chang seemed surprised."That doesn't sound like me.I usually put it off to the last minute."

"It's the last week of classes and you said we wouldn't meet tomorrow or Friday," Shirley said, struggling to maintain her sweetest voice."So this is the last minute."

"Feh."Chang shook his head."All right, all right.I don't want to grade anything, so the final assignment is an in-class presentation.No, that doesn't work, today's the last… crap.When's the final?"

Annie and Shirley exchanged glances."Next Wednesday," Annie said."At noon."

"Noon until…?"

"Three?"

"Okay, three hours to fill… thirty-nine students…" Chang did some mental arithmetic. "Break up into groups of three, and show up for the final ready to give a five minute presentation.We should juuuuust be able to squeeze everybody in."

Annie raised her hand, again, but Jeff pulled it back down before Chang noticed.She squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with Chang's obvious math errors.

"What should the presentations be —"

"Historiography!Jeez!What have we been talking about for the last twelve weeks?"

"God only knows," muttered Shirley.

#

Ten minutes later the study group, sans Pierce, met in their usual room."You guys as one group, we're the other group, okay?" said Jeff, gesturing to Britta, Abed, and Troy.

"Probably we could just give one presentation and Chang wouldn't notice we repeated," suggested Britta.

"Oh, you just think you can get Annie and me to do all the work," grumbled Shirley.

"That's not true!" protested Britta."I figured Annie could do everything."

Annie let out an aggrieved gasp.

"Oh, come on," said Britta."'Everything' in this case is, like, basically nothing.It's abundantly clear that Mandatory Historiography is not a real class, it's just something the dean came up with.We don't need to take this seriously."

"Do we take any of these classes seriously?" Troy wondered aloud."Sometimes I worry that my time at Greendale might net me a piece of paper that says I'm educated, but no actual education.On the other hand, I am the AC Repair messiah, so I've got my bases pretty well covered."

"I wish you wouldn't say 'messiah,' " said Shirley.

Troy shrugged."AC Repair savior?AC Repair prophet and god-king?" He snapped his fingers."AC Repair Super-Jesus!"

Shirley stared at him a moment."Don't Jehovah's Witnesses have some rule against blasphemy?"

"Hey, I don't tell you how to practice your faith…"

"Regardless," said Britta, trying to drag the conversation back towards the matter at hand, "Historiography is stupid and we'd just be repeating a bunch of work and there's nothing to it."

"What you're saying is mutually exclusive," Abed pointed out."It can't simultaneously be so little work that it's no burden on Annie to do all of it, and so much work that it's a burden on everyone else to duplicate her effort."

"Well, you're going to have to live with being less than perfectly efficient," said Annie, "because I refuse to do all the work for you guys!"

"And I back you up one hundred percent," Jeff assured her."Britta, Abed, Troy: frankly, I'm ashamed of you.Annie isn't going to do your project. She'll have her hands full with our group's work."

Annie glared at him in a slightly theatrical manner.

"Okay, fine," Jeff snapped, feigning annoyance."Shirley and I will also help you."

"Great as it is to hear you speak for me, Jeff," Shirley said, "I actually need to go do work.You know, real work.At Shirley's Sandwiches." She sighed. "Now, if you two really need my assistance for this ridiculous made-up busywork assignment about nothing," she continued, her voice turning mournful, "then I guess I can call my family and tell them they're on their own for dinner tonight, because Mommy needs to…"

"Fine!" "Go!" cried Jeff and Annie.

Shirley smiled and nodded and exited quickly, before anyone could rope her into anything else.

#

Normally on Thursdays Jeff Winger slept late.That is, to the extent that his life was regular enough that he could be said to have a normal procedure for Thursdays, he had lately been spending it sleeping late.There were a few exceptions: joyous occasions when he hadn't woken alone in his bed, and unhappy occasions when he'd been obliged to force himself to Greendale at a stupidly early hour for Chang's stupid Historiography class.But normally he slept late.

After Historiography on his schedule was another class he usually skipped: Constitutional Law I, taught by a perpetually-exhausted ex-lawyer several years younger than Jeff.The professor had suffered some kind of nervous breakdown midway through his first year as an associate at a white-shoe New York firm and washed up at Greendale. In Jeff, he'd recognized a kindred spirit, and as such had no problem with Jeff skipping two-thirds of his lectures.They both knew Jeff could breeze his way through the exams to a B-.Jeff could have skipped all the lectures, not just most, and cruised along with a D, but even Jeff Winger had some standards.

However on this particular Thursday Jeff showed up ten minutes early for the lecture, wearing a freshly-pressed suit, a close shave, and a new haircut.Thursday, eight o'clock.Pierce had warned Jeff about a surprise audit sometime before classes ended, arranged by Sadie Edison-Parker.Britta's story as to how she'd overheard Sadie's plan was implausible, but he didn't doubt her sincerity.Thursday at eight, she'd said.

The classroom was mostly empty, and there was a total absence of Sadie Parker-Edison in it.Jeff licked his lips nervously as he looked around — what, exactly, was this ambush going to look like?He'd come dressed for battle, but he had no idea what to expect.

"Jeff Winger!"An Arabic-looking woman in her forties sat in the front row, smiling politely.She waved cheerily at him.Bright eyes, dark skin, familiar, and entirely out of place.

Without context it took Jeff almost a quarter of a second to recognize and remember her.When he did, he could have kicked himself for not noticing her sooner: Lelia Gilman, the chair of his own personal bar association disciplinary sub-subcommittee.The woman with whom, more or less, he'd struck his unholy bargain.Four years in the Phantom Zone, four years keeping his nose clean, four years of Greendale… and then he could have his old life back.They weren't close friends but she always sent him a Christmas card with a picture of her dogs and a jaunty greeting in purple ink.

"Lelia!" he cried, smiling broadly. He strode over to her and shook her hand."You're looking marvelous, but that comes as no surprise."

"Oh, you," Lelia said in a tone that clearly meant _I enjoy your antics… don't expect me to cheat in your favor just for compliments, but I do enjoy your antics._

He slid into the seat next to her."So what brings you to this little slice of purgatory?You need to brush up on the basics?"

"Not hardly.I'm sure you've been counting the days until your suspension is lifted.Just to make sure there won't be any difficulties when the day comes, I thought I'd pop in and do a quick con-fab or two.I'd have warned you, but then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?Check that you are, in fact, getting a bachelor's degree here, as agreed, and not just bribing someone in the front office to print up fake transcripts for you to mail in."

"Now, Lelia, if someone in the front office printed them, could they really be called fake transcripts?" Jeff asked breezily."Seems to me if it's notarized by the dean, it must be legit."

"Oh, how we've all missed your cutting legal analysis," she said wryly."I'm sure you've been breaking coeds' hearts for the last three and a half years." 

For a moment Jeff considered telling her about Annie, that he was in love in a way he'd always thought was a lie told by greeting-card companies.However, playing the rake had worked with Lelia up to this point; it had never gone beyond light flirting but light flirting had gotten him this far… There was no reason to change a winning strategy.So instead Jeff winked."A gentleman never tells."

Lelia chuckled."Anyway, I have a copy of your schedule here.I need to check with all your instructors, your character references, et cetera.You should feel honored I've blocked out an entire day for this.We can go out for drinks after."

Jeff made a show of checking his watch."Hm, yeah, it is almost eight in the morning; naturally your thoughts are turning to alcohol."

"You know me so well.Oh, speaking of knowing people!" Lelia grabbed his forearm and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing."I just found out from the nervous man in the dean's office, my niece goes to school here!Do you know her?I couldn't get any contact information out of her mother, so I'm forced to just look around wildly and hope to spot her.I haven't seen her in years, unfortunately.I remember bad skin and a back brace.Hair all poofed out so she wouldn't look like her mother… I'm not sure I'd even recognize her now. Might have to talk to the registrar and get her course schedule. Don't worry, it won't interfere with the audit.I just…"She went all misty-eyed for a moment."I've missed her.I say niece, but she's my sorority niece, really."

"Your sorority niece?" Jeff raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the sudden sinking feeling. _Purple ink_ , he thought _._ Lelia Gilman was one of only two women he knew who used purple ink.

"My sorority sister's daughter," Lelia said, as if this were obvious. "Little Annie Parker.Or, no, I suppose it'd be Edison still…" Lelia's eyes widened."You _do_ know her!I can tell from the way your nostrils flared."

"My nostrils are very flaring," Jeff said defensively.Outwardly he looked slightly ruffled, inwardly he was screaming.

"Jeff, what's the matter?Is she your enemy?"Lelia was still smiling."Let me guess: she reminded some lecturer about a pop quiz they'd forgotten, or something?She's like a daughter to me, but she always was a little teacher's pet…She walked in on you performing experiments with some redheaded Human Anatomy professor?"

"Not exactly," Jeff stammered.

Lelia's smile slowly faded."You charmed her into letting you copy her notes, didn't you? That sounds like you." She cocked her head, considering. "And then she developed a little crush on you, and you had to let her down, decent man that you are…"

"Uh…"For once, Jeff Winger could think of nothing to say.

Lelia watched him fidget."But according to arithmetic, she should be a senior like you, so… that would have happened years ago.First or second semester?"She read confirmation in his failure to meet her eyes."And your reaction was fresher than that.So something else happened…"The smile was completely gone, now, and the eyes had hardened in a way Jeff had never seen on her before."Oh, Jeff.Tell me you didn't."

 

END OF ACT ONE

 


	14. Binding Arbitration for Beginners Act 2

BINDING ARBITRATION FOR BEGINNERS

 

Shirley's Sandwiches was deserted.

After a lot of back and forth, Shirley had decided to hire work-study students through the school, to run the lunch counter while she was in class or at group meetings.She was gone from the counter for only a few hours over the course of the day, but she'd had to hire three different students to work about five hours a week each, to get the coverage she needed.After running through a comical series of inept student assistants, from Garrett, to Garrett wearing a hat and vainly hoping Shirley wouldn't recognize him, she'd finally found three workers she could trust.And yet, here she was, arriving in the cafeteria and finding it entirely empty.

"Lauren?" Shirley called, in her friendliest tone."Lauren, are you all right?"

She relaxed, then stiffened, as the wrong skinny white girl emerged from the back door to the kitchen area. 

"I bought two hundred dollars' worth of coffee, on the condition that Lauren take an extended break," Sadie Parker-Edison said."Presumptuous of me, yes, but I was hoping you and I could have a little chat in private."

Shirley stared at Annie's mother for a moment.The woman was tiny, immaculately made-up,with perfectly-styled hair and wearing a suit that probably cost as much as Shirley's car.They'd met only briefly, at the ill-fated dinner, but again Shirley was struck by the resemblance between mother and daughter.Not just in the shapes of their faces and their eyes; Sadie had just used the same sweetly condescending tone Shirley had heard coming from Annie on a dozen occasions.

"I know we'll never be friends," Sadie said after a moment had passed without Shirley responding."But perhaps you can muster the charity to hear me out?"

Shirley's first impulse was to throw the woman out, or maybe throw something at her, for daring to imply she was uncharitable."Of course," she said tightly.

Smiling slightly, Sadie walked to the nearest booth and sat down.She had a manila folder in her hands."Please," she said.

Shirley reluctantly sat down across from Sadie."I don't know what you think you can accomplish."

"I have two things," Sadie said brightly."An offer, and a request."She opened the folder and spread the documents within across the tabletop between them."As you may be aware, I'm currently in control of the Greendale Community College board of trustees, which among other things gives me a considerable amount of influence on the day-to-day business operations of the school."

"Mmm-hmm." Shirley stared straight at Sadie, arms folded.

"This includes contracts with outside suppliers," she continued.She leaned forward and smiled as though confiding in Shirley. "You wouldn't believe some of the choices Carl and Richie have made over the years… or you've been at GCC for a while, so maybe you would?The men are idiots, but you know that; you've met them.And Dean Pelton."

"Mmm-hmm."Shirley resisted the urge to glance down at the documents.

"Now, Shirley's Sandwiches currently enjoys a two-year contract and a five-year lease on your current space…"Sadie tapped one of the documents, then another."Which, well, you were able to negotiate some very nice terms for yourself.Or Pelton gave you a sweetheart deal.Either way, good for you!I have no desire to try to break your lease or force you out."

In the moment Shirley couldn't recall whether the lease was one of the things Jeff had worked on, for her and Pierce, when the lunch counter was opening.

"In fact, I think that a successful small business owned and operated by a GCC alumna, particularly a woman of color like yourself, sends an excellent message to prospective students about the measure of success possible with a GCC diploma.To put it plainly, I want to support Shirley's Sandwiches."Sadie slid another document on top of the lease."This is a contract hiring Shirley's Sandwiches as the exclusive caterer of all GCC events for the next eight years.I'm under the impression Pelton likes to plan events?Pierce said there were almost a dozen different dances and parties scheduled this past semester."She paused, to let this sink in."It also extends your current lease and term out to that point, at what I think you'll find to be surprisingly good terms. Improves slightly on your current deal," Sadie added.

Shirley couldn't help glancing at the proffered contract.Then she did a double take, and scanned it more closely.If there wasn't a poison pill in there that she hadn't noticed, then this contract would more than double Shirley's Sandwiches' revenue.

"I know, I know," Sadie said, rolling her eyes."You're wondering how GCC can afford this.Well, it turns out… and I'm sure this comes as a shock to you…" She winked, as though Shirley were an old friend with whom she'd shared a private joke. "GCC is pretty badly mismanaged.I know!Huge shock." She threw her hands up and chuckled before lowering them."The savings from shutting down the thermal facsimile simulator lab alone will more than cover it.You know GCC has a whole room full of _pretend_ fax machines?I'd assumed Pierce was joking, but no.Apparently students can't be trusted with real ones.It'd be laughable if they didn't use reams of single-sourced proprietary fake-fax paper, which we've been paying an arm and a leg for.I swear, this school.Bless their hearts…"

"What do you want?" Shirley asked quietly, still reading through the contract.

"Feel free to take that, have your attorney look over it.Or your 'not-actually-an-attorney.' " She made quotation marks with her hands, in case her disdain hadn't been clear.  

"Mmm-hmm."

"Whatever you like." Sadie smiled at Shirley a moment, then sobered."All I want is what's best for my daughter.I'm sure, as a mother, you can understand that.I know my daughter doesn't think much of me, and Lord knows I've made mistakes.But I've repented, and I hold out hope for redemption."

Part of Shirley was acutely aware that Sadie was hitting too many evangelical Christian buzzwords in too rapid a sequence for it to be chance.The rest of her, however, was forced to admit the pitch wasn't entirely ineffective; if there was even the slightest chance that Shirley could bring this woman to Jesus, her evangelical theology insisted it was her responsibility to do so, and save Sadie from Hell."It's always painful to see a family torn apart," she said cautiously, "but Annie…"

"I'm not asking you to speak to her on my behalf, or anything like that," Sadie assured her."Even if I could somehow talk you into it, I'm sure that would simply drive her further away.I'd just like one of her friends to know that I'm not… I'm not a monster motivated purely by spite."

 _No, you're a monster motivated purely by a deep-seated need for control_ , thought Shirley.Instead she said "I'm sure Pierce doesn't think of you that way. He's said… things, about you. Nice things."

Sadie gave a wan little smile."He can be kind of a…" Her voice caught in her throat."Pierce means well. Mostly he means well."For the first time in the conversation, she seemed slightly flustered.She cleared her throat."But that's a different case.I'm not expecting you to buy me dinner!" Sadie said, letting out a forced chuckle.

 _Did your facade crack for a second there, or did you decide that you could manipulate me better if you showed a little weakness?_ "Of course," Shirley said sweetly.

"If nothing else, GCC is where my daughter has decided to plant her flag, and so even if she wants nothing to do with me… I want GCC to be the best it can possibly be.You're a parent, you can understand."

Shirley grunted noncommittally.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Sadie asked.

"I wish you wouldn't."

Sadie leaned forward slightly in her seat."I'm not proud of this… I had a plan.My ex-husband and I separated some time ago.After the divorce I spent a brief period looking for a new partner, various social events and evenings at bars… it didn't lead to anything."She hesitated, as though working up the will to continue. "But it overlapped with the period that my daughter's lover spent picking up nervous divorcees.I never met him," Sadie added quickly, "or if I did we didn't… make any kind of impression on one another.But when I found out about that, I…" She stopped, and began again. "I had someone dig up dirt on him. All of you, really, her friends I mean, but mostly him.As if the falsified degrees and all wasn't enough.When I reviewed his history and saw that he'd been a barfly while I was…" She paused, again, and cleared her throat."I had the idea of claiming my daughter's lover was in fact my discarded former lover.To prove to her just how unsuitable a partner Jeffrey Tobias Winger is for her." She sighed. "But I couldn't go through with it."

"I could have lived my life without knowing that," murmured Shirley.

"I'm sorry," Sadie said."Confession is good for the soul, they say… I also had the idea of reintroducing her to Richard Stephenson.I don't know if you remember him.Doctor Rich? "

Shirley nodded slightly.

"He's a good man.A better match for her.I thought simply putting the two of them next to one another might lead to her realizing that on her own, but… I think if she got a whiff of the idea that I approved of him, that would sink his chances completely, regardless of his other qualities."

"Jeff's not a bad man," Shirley said, because she couldn't hold it in any longer.

To her surprise, Sadie just nodded and looked away."I'm sure he's not.My… her father wasn't a bad man, either. But he was terrible."She rose."I'm sorry, I've already taken up too much of your time."Without waiting for a response she hurried away.

Shirley was left wondering what, exactly, the sincerity-to-bull-hockey ratio in that conversation had been.She sighed heavily, and began to gather up the papers Sadie had left on the tabletop, unsigned eight-year sweetheart contract included.

#

Shirley found Annie just as the latter was getting out of her class on interpretation of actuarial data or some damn hospital-administration thing, Shirley couldn't keep track and didn't try. "Annie!" she cried, falling into step beside the younger woman.

"Hey, Shirley, what's up?"

"I just had a… an interesting, let's say, conversation with your mother," Shirley began.

Annie glanced around nervously."She's here?Where?"

"I saw her in the cafeteria… I don't know if she was trying to be nice or what, but she…"

"Annie! Annie Edison!"

Annie and Shirley both turned, curious.The voice shouting Annie's name was a woman's, one Shirley didn't recognize, and it came from some distance up the hallway.

Shirley took a step back as the crowd of students parted for a woman (tall, woman of color, nice suit, about a decade older than Shirley) barreling towards them at a full run (impressive, as she was wearing heels).The stranger crashed into Annie's personal space and embraced her, before either Annie or Shirley could react.

"Annie, God, I thought you were in Massachusetts!"The woman's voice was thick with emotion.

Slowly Annie put her arms around her, returning the hug."Hi, Auntie, um, Lelia," she said timidly.

"What are… God, it's so good to see you!I had no idea you were here!" the woman — Lelia? — told Annie.

"Annie?" Shirley asked, in a tone meant to convey _do you need me to call security?_

Annie understood her tone immediately."It's okay! This is Lelia Gilman. She's, um, a friend of my mother's."

"Oh." Shirley tried to process this.On the one hand, a friend of Sadie's was no friend of Shirley's.On the other, she was still holding Annie firmly and making no more to release her.

"Let me see you," Lelia grasped Annie firmly at the shoulders and put a little distance between them."Oh, you look just like Sadie at your age.Or Sadie now, really, I don't know how she does it. Listen to me, I'm babbling.I just…" She trailed off, blinking back tears."I didn't know where you were.I didn't know you were here, this whole time," she said brokenly. "I missed you. When you ran off I tried to find you, but Sadie wouldn't… I gathered you two had a fight, but I'd hoped you wouldn't think I…" Lelia shook her head."It doesn't matter.Where have you been?What's happened? Why didn't you call me?"

"I've been here," Annie said, taking a step back.She, too, was misty-eyed."I've been here at Greendale.It's kind of a long story."She slouched down, folding her arms tightly, and looked down at the floor.

Lelia stepped closer to Annie and hugged her again."I have a thousand questions, but that can wait.It's okay. I'll buy you lunch.Don't you dare say no."She stroked Annie's hair.

Her head resting on Lelia's shoulder, Annie sniffled and chuckled at the same time."I wouldn't dare."

 _This was something else Adderall stole from Annie_ , Shirley realized. _Or Adderall and Sadie working together._ She suddenly felt she was intruding. "I should leave you to it…"

"Oh!"Annie seemed suddenly to remember Shirley was there."Um, Lelia," she said, pulling slightly away from her."This is my friend Shirley Bennett."

"Really?" Lelia smiled at Shirley."That makes sense.I was hoping to talk to you, actually, about a mutual friend.Not this one," she added, indicating Annie."Jeff Winger.He listed you as a character reference."

"He did?" Shirley felt lightheaded.

"Yes.Yes.Let's…" Lelia glanced at Annie, then back to Shirley. "Do you have a few minutes sometime today?I'm actually here about Jeff Winger's suspension.I didn't know you were…" She had turned back to Annie."This whole time, I… did Sadie know? I'm sorry, we can talk about it in private later."

"I can talk to you whenever," Shirley offered."Now, or if you two want to go to lunch…"

"Okay, it's…" Lelia checked her watch."It isn't eleven yet.Let's, uh, let's do this real quick."

"Oh, you're welcome to join us for lunch," Annie told Shirley, surprising both Shirley and Lelia."I think you and, um, Lelia have a lot in common. Well, maybe not so much a lot in common as…" She trailed off."You know."

"Sure," Lelia said gamely.She glanced around the thinning crowd in the hallway."Is there an empty classroom or a study carrel or something we can use?"

END OF ACT TWO

 

 


	15. Binding Arbitration for Beginners Act 3

ACT THREE

Jeff wasn't surprised to find her waiting for him.Sadie Parker-Edison stood in the hall outside his first class after lunch, smiling to herself and playing with her phone.She looked up as Jeff approached, and beckoned him closer.When Jeff instead slowed his pace and stopped, standing twenty feet or so away from her, she shrugged and closed the distance between them herself.

"Hello, Jeffrey," she said cheerily."You're looking very sharp.Do you often wear a suit to your community college courses?"

"Sometimes," he answered.He tried to guess at what she wanted.

Her eyes were hard."I'm fine, thank you for asking.And yourself?"

Screw it. "What do you want, Sadie?" Jeff asked her.

"Oh, so many things."She tilted her head."Walk with me, Jeffrey.I want to offer you something."

"Whatever it is, I don't want it."

Sadie snorted."At least hear me out.For my daughter's sake — this concerns her, after all."

Jeff stiffened.He didn't want to spend any more time in this woman's presence, but, after all, what more could Sadie Parker-Edison do to him?"Fine."

"I suppose by now you've encountered Lelia Gilman," Sadie said, as though it were occurring to her for the first time."Not for the first time, I assume."

"Not for the first time, no."

"You and she hashed out the ridiculous terms of your situation with the bar association, I think.She must like you, to be so generous."

"Maybe she's just a generous person."

"Oh, she is.You see, I've known Lelia Gilman a long time."Sadie thrust her phone in Jeff's face and began scrolling through photos."Here we are at _the Muppet Movie_.We were, oh, I want to say twelve at the time.First time we were allowed to go to a movie without adult supervision, her mother dropped us off… and here we are graduating high school.Class of 1985.Here we are moving into the dorm together… here she is at my wedding, you see, maid of honor, very regrettable hairstyle choices for both of us… and here she is at my daughter's seventh birthday party.Auntie Lelia, that's what she used to call her."

"So I gathered," Jeff said shortly.

"Lelia likes you, I'm sure," Sadie said."But she loves me.And she loves my daughter."

"Then that makes two of us," Jeff said, "out of you and me and Lelia Gilman."

Sadie made a parody of a wince."That's an awful thing to say.But then, you're an awful man.At least you're awful in one major respect: you're not suitable for my daughter."

Jeff considered speaking, but instead just waited for her to finish.

"You're lazy and you always take the easy way out.You're instinctively dishonest.You take advantage of people, her most of all.You've pulled her away from her proper path to this ridiculous law school plan.You've encouraged her to drink and debauchery.You've mooched off her studious, generous nature… I blame you for our inability to reconcile over Thanksgiving."

"Why did you even try that?Showing up, out of the blue?" Jeff asked.He'd wondered for weeks.

Sadie shook her head slightly."No. You don't get to ask questions."She drew herself to her full height (five feet, two inches in heels)."This is the deal.You'll break it off with her.Disappear from her life.You won't return her calls, you won't visit her, you won't speak to her if she tries to visit you.In fact you'll leave town. You can move to Pueblo, or Colorado Springs.Get away from here."

For a moment, Jeff and Sadie just stared at one another.Then Sadie looked away.

"In exchange for making a permanent improvement in Ann's life by leaving it," she said, "you'll be reimbursed for your relocation, and, of course, you will once again be admitted to the Colorado state bar.I'm sure you'll be able to chase all the ambulances you like in Colorado Springs. The people there are very litigious."

"Listen," Jeff said.He felt dizzy.

"You're a liar and a womanizer," she said flatly."A monster who craves young flesh.In a few years you'll turn forty.You'd be a man in his forties dating a woman in her twenties.Even you must be self-aware enough to recognize that cliche. My daughter has all the potential in the world, and you're standing between her and eventual happiness."

"Listen," Jeff said again. Bad enough someone else was saying all these things, but that the someone else looked and sounded uncannily like Annie...

"Do you disagree?" Sadie raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you are good enough for her?Do you think you know better than me, what my daughter needs?"

"Listen."Jeff's fists were clenched.

"You think you're what she needs?"

"Listen! Christ!" Jeff snapped. "You're not even talking about me, you're talking about Annie's father. Or, I don't know what you're talking about, but, what do you know about me?"

Sadie's left eye was twitching."I know you're a liar.You lied to your own mother.You lied to the bar association.You lied to the law firm that hired you on the mistaken belief that you were capable of earning a bachelor's degree from a real school.You lied to me within minutes of our first meeting.I know you're a womanizer.You slept with my daughter's friend.You slept with a professor at Greendale.You slept with literally dozens of women between 2005 and 2009.I know you're a user of people. You…"

"Okay! God! Shut up!"

"Mmm-hmm." Sadie let out a low, mordant chuckle. 

"I don't… you can't… it's not… dammit!" Jeff slapped a locker, the closest thing at hand that would make a satisfying bang.

She nodded. "Clearly I'm mistaken, given that well-reasoned argument."

"You just…" Jeff rested his head against the locker, suddenly out of breath. "I'm not going to argue with you."

Sadie folded her arms. "Yes, why change a winning strategy?"

"You can tell Lelia whatever you… I'm not going to…" Jeff shuddered.His mouth felt full of cardboard. "You think she'll listen to you?"

Sadie played with her phone for a moment, then held it up for Jeff to see."You see this picture? This was taken the day my daughter was born.There's me," she said, pointing. "There's little Annie-pooh, and there's Lelia."

"Fine! If you're… fine!" Jeff sputtered."I'm not going to play your game!"

"Then you'll never practice law in Colorado or anywhere," Sadie said. "Years of your life wasted. A further demonstration of the futility of pursuing her, as she grows discontent with your endless stream of failure. Or else she sticks with you, to spite me, and you can live with the knowledge that you've ruined her life."

Jeff shuddered involuntarily.It was like having a conversation directly with the part of him that hated himself.

#

Shirley and Annie sat in the study room, in their usual seats.Annie's hands were neatly folded in her lap and her face was serene, betraying none of the anxiety Shirley knew she felt.

"Ready to get started?" Lelia asked, clicking her pen and making a note on her legal pad.She sat in Pierce's usual seat.Her pen was purple, Shirley noted, and wondered if that was a good omen or a bad one.

"Of course," said Shirley.

Lelia reviewed a sheet of paper in front of her."So, you are Shirley Bennett, right?"

"That is correct," Shirley said carefully.

"And you've known Jeffrey Winger for about three and half years?"

"To the best of my recollection…" She shook her head, remembering."Wait, no.We actually met as children.We didn't stay in touch, though.Can I retract my answer?" she asked nervously.

"Shirley, Shirley." Lelia raised her hands in reassurance. "It's okay.This isn't a deposition; you aren't under oath.This is just me asking some questions to get an idea of how Jeff has spent his time here."

"Lelia…" Annie began.

"I've told you, Annie, you can still call me Auntie."She smiled."I can't believe it's been five years… I hardly recognized you. You look great."

"Thanks, Auntie," Annie said, her tone cautious."So, um, this whole thing is something Jeff is really… invested in?And you know how Mother can be…"

"Oh, don't I know it." Lelia chuckled. "I've known Sadie longer than you have.Since we were a couple of junior high school girls.And it's true, she was the little bird who suggested I take the time to do this, which is just a funny coincidence that she would… Maybe that was as much about giving you and me a chance to reconnect as anything else… but if she knew you were here…" Lelia frowned. "And I know Jeff Winger.I've known him longer than you have, too… although perhaps not as well." She winked.

"Jeff has really changed since he started at Greendale," Annie said.She started fidgeting with her pen, which Shirley took to be a bad sign."He's not the man he was, Auntie, and…"

"I know, I know, I know," Lelia cooed.She glanced at Shirley, who was still sitting quietly."We can talk about _that_ later."

"Or now!I mean..." Annie blinked a few times. "We can talk about whatever in front of Shirley, she's… you're one of my best friends," Annie said, turning to Shirley.

"Of course." Shirley nodded. "We should do this interview thing first, though."

"So, Shirley," Lelia said, turning back to her."Can you tell me a little about how you and Jeff met?"

"Oh, okay."Shirley cleared her throat, and spoke in the sing-song voice she sometimes used when she was nervous."I had started at Greendale, and I was taking Spanish 101.Our friend Abed put together a study group. That was me, and Annie, and Jeff, and some other people…"

Lelia checked her notes. "Abed is Abed Nadir, right?Jeff listed him as a reference, too."

"That's right."

"Who else was in the group?"

Shirley swallowed."Our friends Troy Barnes and Pierce Hawthorne, and Britta Perry."

"And Pierce is the third reference, so that makes sense…" Lelia raised an eyebrow."Is Britta Perry not a friend?"

"Of course she is!" Annie interjected."She's one of my best friends!"

"Absolutely, yes," Shirley agreed."I just, initially, she was only part of the group because… Jeff arranged it with Abed, because he, uh, Jeff wanted to…"

Lelia's eyes narrowed."Jeff saw a pretty redhead in his Spanish class, lied and said he had a study group to get her to meet with him, and had his friend Abed… whom apparently he's close with since he's a character reference… His friend Abed threw together a fake study group at the last minute?"Her tone was light, but there was something menacing in the way she clicked her purple pen.

"No!" Shirley protested.Despite the lack of blood tie, it was suddenly much easier to see Lelia Gilman as Annie's relative."Britta's a blonde," she said lamely.

Lelia let out a chuckle that ended in an embarrassing snort."Okay, his tastes have obviously evolved," she said."Setting aside Jeff being a player, because it's not technically relevant…"

Shirley noticed Annie shift uncomfortably in her seat.

Lelia doubtless noted it, too.Her tone quickly softened. "Then you all became actual friends, and you've stayed together as a group this whole time?"

"Uh huh." Shirley nodded.

"Would you say you know Jeff well, at this point?" Lelia asked.

"Oh, definitely.I had him and his mother over for Thanksgiving dinner.And we went to the Ren Fair together…"

"The group did," Annie said, jumping in."We do a bunch of things together like that.It's fun. We have fun.We're friends."

Lelia made a note."Note to self," she said, "Annie has fun without me."She winked at Annie.

Annie repressed a grin."Auntie!"

"I mean, you've had, what, five birthday parties without inviting me?" Lelia asked wryly. "I didn't even have your contact information and Sadie was _sooo_ tight-lipped about you…"She shook her head ruefully."I'm sorry," she told Shirley. "You were saying?"

"Um, just that Jeff and I have been friends for a while now."

Lelia reviewed her notes. "There was an incident of some kind last spring.Jeff was expelled from the school?"

"That was rescinded," Annie said.

"Yes, it was." Lelia nodded."Shirley, can you tell me anything about that?"

Shirley considered."It's kind of a complicated story."She swallowed.The study group, the dean, the board — they had all agreed to keep omertà about Chang's reign of terror.

"Okay then.That's fine; I don't need to hear it if that's a problem." Lelia waved away her concerns. "The upshot is, is it a story that Jeff comes out of smelling like a rose, or is there something in there that would give the bar pause?"

"Oh, he didn't do anything wrong.None of us did!" Shirley leaned forward."The whole group was expelled.For a little while.But Annie's right, it was rescinded."

"Yes, I've read Jeff's transcripts… he sends me a copy every semester, as per our agreement…"Lelia made a note."Okay," she said brightly."Is there anything else, anything at all, that you think is relevant at all to the question of whether Jeff should be reinstated to the bar?"

"He's a good man," Shirley said."He's changed a lot since that first semester.Like, last summer, there was this dispute between me and Pierce, about Shirley's Sandwiches…"

"They co-own a lunch counter in the cafeteria," Annie supplied.

Shirley nodded."And it was really silly, just a question of whose name went on the contract with the school, but it really hit a nerve with Pierce because of the way he'd been forced out of Hawthorne Wipes and Hawthorne Napkins and Hawthorne Paper Products, and he brought in this lawyer Alan, who it turned out used to work with Jeff…"

"Alan Connor?" Lelia asked sharply."Nasty boorish little white guy?"

Shirley nodded. "You know him?"

"The legal community in this town is not huge," Lelia explained.

"So we had a mock trial kind of thing, with the dean presiding.Jeff was my attorney and Alan was Pierce's," Shirley continued."Jeff ended it with this very lovely speech about friendship and how much he'd learned about caring for other people, and how it didn't matter that he was throwing away his chance to go back to his old firm, and… it was nice."

Lelia grunted appreciatively and made another note. "He still makes the speeches, then?"

Shirley giggled."Oh my yes."

"It's kind of a running joke, really," Annie said.

"I'm sure he's great at mock trials," Lelia said. She smiled."Debate and model UN and all that, too."

"Oh, yeah, actually," Annie said, grinning despite herself."We, um, we did some of that stuff together, he and I."There was a faraway look in her eyes for a moment.She blinked it away, but not before Shirley — and presumably Lelia — spotted it.

Lelia repressed a grin of her own."Okay, great," she said, straightening up in her seat."Let's say I'm willing to believe that Jeff Winger has become a wonderful human being who deserves to be accepted back into the legal fold.Even that he's as close to being good enough for Annie as any mere mortal man could be… Let's say I'm willing to go along with that… but let's also say I'm on the fence.Is there anything else you want to say, Shirley, to tip me one way or the other?"

Shirley shook her head slowly, then nodded vigorously as she remembered another possible point in Jeff's favor."Oh, he drew up a contract between Pierce and me, about how we run the lunch counter… which is that I run the lunch counter and Pierce keeps his damn fool mouth shut… and he didn't charge us anything for that."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, he's done a few things like that for us, just free of charge.The lease with the school for the space, he negotiated that, and he wrote the, I forget what it's called…"

"So he's been acting as your attorney?"Lelia asked, incredulous.

"Oh, no!No, no no," Shirley assured her."He's been very clear about that.He's not a lawyer; we're not his clients. He doesn't give us legal advice. He always reminds us of that before he does anything."

"Does anything?" Lelia repeated.

Shirley shrugged."You know, answer questions, settle disputes, write or review documents, clarify things…"

"Legal advice, in other words."

Shirley blinked."Is that wrong?"

Lelia pursed her lips."If you have a leaking pipe, and you call me, and I come over with tools, and I tell you I'm not your plumber, but then I fix your leak… am I your plumber?"

"Uh…"

"If you have a cavity, and I'm going to drill it and give you a filling, but right before I inject the novocaine I tell you I'm not a dentist, does that mean that if I screw it up and you lose all feeling in your jaw I'm not at fault and I don't owe you doctor-patient confidentiality?"

Shirley tried to shrug off a sinking feeling."…I'm guessing not?"

"Definitely not.It's the same with the law." Lelia glanced nervously towards Annie.

"So… that's not how it works?" Shirley asked.

Lelia shook her head."No, it's not."

"Is this a problem?" Annie asked, visibly worried."It's just been a couple of things, for friends, and it's not like he was taking money for it…"

"That's true, that's true." Lelia sounded pained. "The rules about practicing law without a license are pretty cut and dried, though.A key part of having your license to practice law suspended is that you _stop practicing law_.It'd be one thing if he were just doing it on his own behalf, that's fine, but…"She trailed off with a rueful shrug."And Jeff knows that, or he should.At least he should have told me."

"Does this mean…?"

Lelia grimaced; she clearly didn't want to give Annie bad news. "It's… I don't know.It's not great, but… I'll talk to Nadir and Hawthorne and his instructors, and, well, we'll see.We'll see."

END OF ACT THREE

 

 


	16. Endgames II: Queen and Queen Act 1

ENDGAMES II: QUEEN AND QUEEN

ACT ONE

Thanks, as per usual, to both bethanyactually and amrywiol, without whose suggestions this would be much weaker.

* * *

"I don't understand," the dean said for the fourth time.

"All right, I'll explain it again," Shirley said. She sat primly across from him, trying to touch as little as possible. The dean's office always made her uncomfortable; Shirley was willing to withhold condemnation of the dean's various predilections but she preferred not to think about it. Dalmatians everywhere. So many dalmatians… "The situation is complicated. There's a lawyer here from the state bar association to check up on Jeffrey."

"That seems bad," said the dean. "Checking up seems bad. If you're getting tested, there's a chance you'll fail. Knowing you can fail can rattle your confidence, so you're not your best self. That's why we let students take classes Pass/Pass."

"Now," Shirley said, lifting a finger to silence him, "this lawyer is someone Jeff has a good relationship with. Her name is Lelia Gilman. She's the one who agreed to the terms of his suspension in the first place."

"Well, that's good. Between you and me and the wall I always thought the whole 'we're okay with fraud if you just get a bachelor's degree' thing was kind of odd."

"Mmm-hmm." Shirley cleared her throat. The next part was tricky. "She's also a very old friend of Annie's mother."

The dean squinted, mulling it over.

"That's bad," Shirley told him. "Annie's mother is terrible."

"Of course! Of course. I knew that," the dean said quickly. "I met her. I mean, she was just awful to Annie that one time, and she acts like she's into Pierce, which means she's just dishonest by nature…"

"Yes, yes, we're all vice-presidents in the We Hate Sadie Club, except for Ms. Gilman apparently." Shirley paused. "But she's also a very old friend of Annie's. No, 'friend' isn't the right word. Annie calls her Auntie Lelia. It's nice," she added in a sweeter tone.

"They can't be that close." The dean didn't seem reassured. "Annie never talks about her."

"Annie never talks about her family at all," Shirley pointed out. "I think that when Annie had her, hmm, 'breakdown' four years ago Sadie told Lelia that she'd moved to Massachusetts or something. I don't know what she said, exactly. She definitely didn't give Annie's contact information to Lelia. Now Lelia knows that Sadie lied to her and Annie's been here this whole time."

"That's… good?" the dean guessed. "They're reunited. It's nice. And we all hate Annie's mother, so it's good to see her lies exposed." He leaned forward. "Right? That's good, right?"

Shirley nodded dismissively. "Yes, yes. But there's another problem."

"Oh, what now?" whined the dean. "Can't things just be good or bad? What's with all these other problems?"

"Jeff has been violating some fool rule or other, helping out me and Pierce. It's a technicality but you know how lawyers are about technicalities."

"Augh!" The dean dropped his head into his hands, groaning. "This is just too much to remember, good thing, bad thing, good thing, bad thing! Why can't you just tell me what's left over after everything else cancels out?"

Shirley scowled, disgusted. "Because I'm trying to talk to you like you're an adult? Lord knows I should know better after this many semesters at this school. Listen, little man," she said, leaning forward. "Jeff Winger is in trouble and needs help. Are you just going to sit there and let him dangle?"

The dean slowly straightened up. "No?" His voice quavered.

"Then let's get to work!" Shirley stood up. "I need you to get everyone together who'll be willing to speak on Jeff's behalf, students and faculty alike. Professor Duncan. His friend Neil…" She ticked the names off on her fingers. "There must be someone else, I don't know. That's why I came to you."

"Vicki?" hazarded the dean.

"No!" Shirley barked, causing the dean to flinch. "Not Vicki! Dear Lord, I said  _speak on Jeff's behalf —_  what is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" whimpered the dean. "She was in here earlier —"

"Who, Vicki?"

"No! The lawyer! She was in here and she asked a lot of very very probing questions about degree requirements and course syllabuseseses," he stammered, "and accreditation and the student handbook and — and I panicked and I don't even remember what I said!" The dean's tone was histrionic.

Shirley shuddered. On top of everything else, if Greendale Community College's academic standards weren't up to Lelia Gilman's expectations, Jeff might be sunk regardless of his character. "All right," she said. "Don't worry about that."

The dean nodded hopefully. "It's going to be okay?"

"I don't know. But don't worry about it because you can only focus on one thing at a time, and I need to you gather up everybody. Focus on that. Get them to the cafeteria at five, all right?"

"Right."

"Everybody, cafeteria, five. Say it."

The dean pursed his lips. "Everybody, cafeteria, five," he repeated. "I'm not a child, you know."

Shirley was already halfway out the door. "I know," she said over her shoulder. Kids sometimes had some sense.

The dean harrumphed. Then, suddenly remembering, he dashed to the exit and called down the hallway after her, "Wait, which everybody? Was that a yes or a no on Vicki?"

* * *

**_1 May 1988_ **

A tidy dorm room, lit by Christmas lights. Music wafting in through an open window. Lelia Gilman, a tall half-Iranian English major of about twenty lounged on her bed, reading a paperback. She looked up as the door opened and another twentyish girl, this one tiny and pale, sauntered in. The second girl, Mercedes Parker, closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, grinning.

"You look pleased about something," Lelia said. She sat up, shifting into a cross-legged position.

Mercedes nodded. "Yeah. You remember Richard Edison?"

Lelia raised an eyebrow. "Mister Edison from the alumni dinner? Spent the whole time hitting on me?"

Mercedes winced. "Yeah, well, he asked me out."

"He did?" Lelia seemed oddly disappointed. "I mean, he's an old geezer and not my type, but…"

"Oh, can't you just be happy for me for once?" Mercedes asked petulantly. "I know, you and he… but you're obviously not going to do anything with him, so…" She gestured towards herself. "Also he isn't old, he's… I don't know, mid-thirties."

"Okay." Lelia chuckled. "You can have him, Sadie dear. But if you get married I want your firstborn child."

Mercedes giggled. "Deal."

* * *

"…And then the helicopters blow up the mud hut, with C.G.B. Spender still inside," Abed said. "Mulder and Scully go one way and Doggett and Reyes another."

He sat in the study room alone with Lelia Gilman, who had given up taking notes. "And that's the whole plot of _the X-Files_?" she asked wearily.

Abed nodded. "There was another movie but it doesn't really tie in. I hope that answers your question."

"I don't remember what I asked." Lelia rubbed her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

"Can I ask you a question, or is that not allowed?" he asked.

"Shoot."

"Are you Annie's fairy godmother?"

Lelia smiled, then sobered as she saw Abed seemed to be serious. "Annie's Jewish," she said. "I would have been her  _kvaterin_ , if she'd been a boy."

He nodded solemnly.

"Also I'm whatever the opposite of a fairy is," she added. "I don't have a magic wand."

"Yeah, I didn't think you had actual magic powers. I can separate fantasy and reality. But if Annie's a Disney Princess, and her mother is an Evil Queen, then you…"

"I don't think it's fair to call Sadie evil," Lelia protested. "I mean, she's gotten kind of squirrelly ever since the divorce, but…" She sighed. "I don't know why she lied to me about Annie."

"It seems pretty obvious she resented your apparent intimacy," Abed said. "That's consistent with everything I know about her."

Lelia smiled tightly. She wasn't especially interested in dissecting her relationship with Sadie with one of Annie's friends. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

"Of course."

"Is there anything else you haven't said… about Jeff Winger, to be clear… that you think might have some bearing on the proceedings?"

Abed thought for a moment. "He once attacked this table with a fire axe."

She clucked her tongue. "He hurt anybody?"

"No. Not then. About a month later he killed Pierce's dad."

Lelia waited for Abed to clarify. When he didn't, she cleared her throat. "Care to unpack that?"

"Last year Pierce faked a heart attack. He went to the hospital. His father was there and Jeff blamed him for Pierce's problems. Not without reason. He made a Winger Speech… you know what I mean by that?"

"Oh, yes." Lelia nodded.

"Jeff made a Winger Speech at Pierce's father and Pierce's father had an actual heart attack and died." Abed stared at Lelia for a moment. "Pierce's father was really old."

She grunted noncommittally. "Well, if he was really old…"

"Oh, he also ruined a kid's bar mitzvah in a drug-fueled frenzy."

"Drug-fueled?"

"He had a bad reaction to an anti-anxiety medication."

"Ah." Lelia nodded in understanding. "Well, that can happen."

Abed's eyes lit up and he leaned forward in his seat. "You know about the Adderall? I didn't know if you knew."

"Adderall?" Lelia scooted backwards a bit in her chair. "Sorry, what?"

Abed froze. "Nothing."

Lelia Gilman pursed her lips and stared at Abed for a moment, thinking. Then she moved on. "What can you tell me about this, um, bar mitzvah ruination event?"

"Not a whole lot to tell. I was in debt to a celebrity impersonator service, the group agreed to work as celebrity impersonators to clear my debt, meanwhile Jeff had just started on a new medication. Pretty simple really." Abed shrugged.

"Who —" Lelia began.

"Ryan Seacrest."

She suppressed a smile. "And who —"

"Judy Garland as Dorothy Gale."

"That sounds about right." Lelia tapped her pen against the table thoughtfully. "Okay, Abed. I don't need a blow-by-blow of every wacky misadventure you've engaged in."

"That would take hours," agreed Abed.

"You're a character reference. Right now I'm under the impression that you think of Jeff as a pretty okay guy. Not perfect by any means, but someone you're proud to call a friend. That sound about right?"

"Sure," said Abed. "He has his flaws, mostly stemming from deep-seated insecurity, but who doesn't in this crazy world?" He tilted his head, considering. "Maybe Shirley. Her flaws seem to come from a different place than insecurity."

Lelia cleared her throat. "New question. This one is… not about Jeff Winger. Or if it is, it's only incidentally… you have a very intense stare, you know that?"

"I've been told that," Abed said. "Some women find me adorable. Others worry I'm a serial killer. I'm not a serial killer. Was that the question?"

She winced in sympathetic embarrassment. He didn't seem to notice. "No," she said.

"Cool."

Lelia pressed on. "You live with Annie."

"Yes."

"You know her well."

"Yes."

"We used to be close."

"I figured, based on what you and she said."

"I haven't seen her in about five years."

"None of these are questions," Abed observed.

Lelia nodded testily. "How is she? Is she… is she okay?" She shifted in her seat. "I'm not asking you to betray a trust. I don't want to invade her privacy, but I've worried about her. I can't help it. Sadie never told me anything, and she used to tell me everything, but then one day Annie was this forbidden topic… that doesn't matter now. She can tell me herself, or not, what happened and why I haven't heard from her in so long." She took a deep breath. "But there are things she might not want to tell me, so I'm asking you: is she okay? Is Jeff at all good for her? Is she on some self-destructive path right now, in your opinion?"

Abed said nothing.

She fidgeted a moment. "That's a very unnerving stare and I do not find it adorable. Normally I would be too polite to say anything but today has been extremely stressful for me, for obvious reasons."

"Annie is well," Abed said. "She's kind of a control freak but she also keeps the bathroom really clean and her fixation on Jeff would probably seem a lot more unhealthy if he wasn't just as fixated on her. She's majoring in Hospital Administration because she picked it out when she was fourteen, but she's decided she wants to work for the FBI and she thinks the best route to that is law school. She's driven and she holds everybody she knows to high standards, herself most of all. She isn't very observant but she really resents it when other people get annoyed when someone says 'happy holidays' instead of 'merry Christmas.' She makes blueberry pancakes sometimes and it doesn't come up often but she loves to do crossword puzzles in purple ink. You're crying. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, yes, no!" Lelia retrieved a tissue from her briefcase and wiped her face. "No, well. Excuse me. Can you point me to the ladies' room?"

Abed pointed. He watched her leave the room, then sat quietly, waiting for her to return. "Today has been an emotional roller-coaster," he said to no one in particular. "Probably it's finals coming up."

* * *

**_3 June 1990_ **

A large round table, in a pavilion at a country club. White bunting and a live band. Law student Lelia Gilman, matriculated and intoxicated, slumped in her seat. She wore a purple bridesmaid's dress.

"Do you remember the night he asked me out?" The bride, shining in her wedding dress, slid into the seat next to Lelia. She clutched a flute of nonalcoholic champagne.

Lelia perked up. "Hmm?"

"May first, two years ago," Mercedes Edison reminded her. "You said that if we got married you wanted our firstborn."

"Oh." Lelia smiled at the memory. "That's okay, you can keep him. Or her. My wedding gift to you."

"You're so generous!" beamed Mercedes. "If it doesn't work out, you know, I'm going to blame you."

Lelia nodded. "That seems fair."

* * *

Annie was hurrying out of her last class of the day to meet Lelia Gilman in the study room when her phone rang. "Pierce?"

"Annie. It's Pierce. Where are you?"

She glanced around. "Greendale?"

"Ah, good, good." He sounded exhausted and harried. "Are you in any kind of trouble?"

It wasn't a completely nonsensical question, but Annie wasn't sure how to answer it. "Um…"

Pierce didn't wait for a response. "Listen, I can't talk long because your mother thinks I'm on a flight to Reno and when she hears this she'll know the truth, so I've got to act fast!"

"What?" Annie ducked around a corner and pressed up against a row of lockers. She looked around frantically but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What do you mean, hears this?"

"I didn't want you to find out this way but I'm out of time. Tomorrow Mercedes is sending some hit man to murder Jeffrey. Code-name 'the Gill Man.' I've got to get him to a safe house before he's shot. Obviously I can't tell you where it is directly, since as you know Mercedes tapped your phone…"

"What?"

"So I'm going to tell you in code. You have a pen? Get ready to take this down. One, three, sixteen —"

"Pierce!" Annie barked.

"Well, hurry up and find a pen!"

"What do you mean, she tapped my phone? Pierce, this is important!"

"She has a guy, this private investigator. He tapped your phone, I don't know how. Her laptop has a bunch of recordings of your calls on it."

"What? What laptop?"

"Your mother's. I said. I'm looking at it right now. It's actually making a recording of this call. It's pretty impressive, what they can do with computers now."

"Where are you?"

"Well, obviously, I don't want to say," Pierce said, "because of the whole phone-tapping thing. I can tell you in code —"

"Pierce!"

"Heh, you know, you sound just like Mercedes." He chuckled. "You're right, though, I did say I was with the laptop, so I can just come right out and say I'm in your room. Your room at your mother's house, I mean, not your room in your apartment. I found your old picture of Troy, by the way — better not let Jeffrey see that!"

Annie whimpered into the phone, visualizing Pierce standing in her childhood bedroom. Her resolve hardened. "All right. This is what you're going to do. Take the laptop. Leave the house. Drive to campus. Meet me in the study room."

"Annie, it is a nice laptop, but I don't think this is the way you want to get a new laptop. You would feel guilty about it later," Pierce told her. "If you want a new laptop, well, Christmas is just around the corner, and maybe Santa Pierce will give one to you…?"

"It's not about the laptop, Pierce, it's about the invasion of my privacy!"

"Oh." Pierce sounded disappointed. "Yeah, I can see how that would upset you… hey, I almost forgot! The hit man. We need to get Jeffrey to a secure undisclosed location. I have a cabin out near Sugarloaf — oh, now it's no longer undisclosed. Well, we'll think of something."

"She's not a hit man, she's my aunt…"

"Of course I can probably talk her out of it," Pierce mused. "The woman is smitten with me, you know."

"There's no hit man," Annie said. "Jeff is totally safe. Probably."

* * *

END ACT ONE


	17. Endgames II: Queen and Queen Act 2

ENDGAMES II: QUEEN AND QUEEN

ACT TWO

* * *

**12 November 1995**

A hospital room, clean and impersonal. One bed lay empty, but in the other slept Lelia Gilman, attorney at law. Battered and beaten, she was swathed in bandages. Sadie Edison sat with a magazine in her lap, in a wooden chair next to the bed. She spoke into a large cellular phone.

"…I'm sorry honey, I don't know when I'll be home. Late tonight, after you're asleep. Daddy will read to you tonight, all right?"

She listened, damp-eyed, for a moment. Then she chuckled, joylessly.

"No, she can't —" Her voice cracked, but the little girl on the other end of the call didn't notice. "She can't come over, not tonight… because she's busy. She loves you but she's a very busy lady, you know… Soon, I promise. I love you… bye."

Sadie stretched out in the chair, letting her head loll backwards. "Thanks," she told the phone. "I told her you'd read to her… oh come on, it's just… well, take it up with her. Make sure she brushes her teeth… I don't know. You know as much as I do…"

Whatever the other end of the phone told her, Sadie didn't seem to care for it. As she listened she made a face and mouthed  _bluh bluh bluh_  to no one.

"They can miss you for one night," she implored the phone. "I'm not leaving here until she's… no. No! Just be a father for one night!" She slammed her thumb on the large plastic button labeled  _END CALL_ , and the phone beeped once.

Sadie threw the phone into her purse. "If I get divorced over this I'm blaming you," she told the woman in the bed.

Lelia's eyes fluttered open. "That seems fair." She winced. "Did something hit us?"

Sadie's hands found one of Lelia's, and she gave it a squeeze. "Yep. Drunk driver. Car's a total loss."

"That's rad." Lelia closed her eyes again. Just when Sadie decided she must have fallen back asleep she spoke again. "Did I dream it or did you carry me out of flaming wreckage like a superhero?"

"You're much too big for me to carry." Sadie smiled softly."I dragged you. And the wreckage wasn't flaming. I was worried the car would explode like in the movies, but it didn't."

"Well," Lelia said as she started to fall back asleep, "it's the thought that counts."

* * *

Jeff Winger didn't often drink during the day, but he didn't often have a woman who looked uncannily like his girlfriend rattle off a bunch of true things about him, and then say that because of those things he should break up with her. Nor did he often have a woman who looked uncannily like his girlfriend tell him that unless he broke up with her, he'd be disbarred.

Aside from a brief flirtation with professional video games champion in high school, Jeff had never wanted to be anything but a lawyer. The lawyer was the rich man in the nice suit who got into the nice car and drove away and left all the problems behind. To hear him tell the story, he'd become a lawyer by random chance, just wandering into a bar exam and passing it and one thing led to another, golly gee whiz.

The truth was that when Jeff had failed out of college he'd hatched a plan. He spent close to six years studying on his own for the exam. He forged the necessary paperwork to let him take the exam without a law school degree, because it was less risky than forging a law school degree. The day he got the letter telling him he'd passed, telling him he could be a lawyer… it had been one of the best of his life, rivaled only by a few more recent days. And those days had an unfair advantage, in the form of Annie Edison.

But that was the thing in a nutshell: Annie Edison was the best thing to ever happen to him. She didn't really fit in the rest of his story; she wasn't perfect, but she was too good for him. He was selfish to keep her, and he was good at being selfish, but…

"Leave her or you can't be a lawyer" wasn't going to make him leave her. "Leave her because she is better off without you" was closer, but it wasn't enough either. Not by itself.

But both arguments together… He shuddered, remembering. Sadie Parker-Edison, so confident in the correctness of her contempt for him. Giving voice to every doubt he'd ever had. Telling him he was broken, and that his love would break Annie, who had been through so much already.

_If you don't like that part, and I don't blame you, you could focus on the other thing. You never believed love was a real experience, and you were wrong about that. You're probably also wrong in thinking you'll never love again._

He had, after all, always wanted to be a lawyer. He'd been a good lawyer. He'd enjoyed it… he'd enjoyed large parts of it. People respected him. He'd wanted it for far longer than he'd wanted a life with Annie. Who's to say he couldn't be swayed by that argument? Who's to say Sadie Parker-Edison had needed to bring in her uncharitable description of him, to convince him to make the deal?

The two prongs of the argument worked against one another, after all. If Jeff was selfish enough to dump Annie for a return to his career and chosen life-path, then he couldn't simultaneously be selfless enough to give Annie up for her own good.

_The one is cover for the other. If it makes you feel better to do so, you can pretend you are a good person. If pretending you are doing bad makes you more comfortable, then pretend you do it because you are a bad person._

But on inspection Jeff found he couldn't pretend, not even in private, not even for a moment, that he would pick the bar over the girl. He tried to imagine making the deal with Sadie. A tearful Annie — set that aside. Colorado Springs. Wearing a suit and driving a nice car. Drinks after work. Congratulations. Grateful clients. Another girl: a redhead, say. Someone he could trick into thinking he loved them the way he loved her… Bile rose in his throat. Three years ago that future had been the thing keeping him going, and now it made him sick to think of it.

Better to imagine Annie's life without him. Graduation in the spring, followed by law school, followed by Quantico. Annie in a suit, with a flashlight and a gun… Jeff realized his mental picture of an FBI agent was informed largely by  _the X-Files_. Annie proudly accepting a Best FBI Agent certificate from a grateful President. Annie sparkling at DC cocktail parties. Annie impressing some senator or congressman, marrying him in a beautiful fairytale ceremony miles beyond anything Jeff could ever afford. Annie raising a pack of kids without giving up her career. Annie encouraging her husband's ambitions. Annie making history as the first person to be both Attorney General and First Lady of the United States. Annie herself running eight years later.

And compare that to her life with him. Annie married to Jeff, disbarred disgrace, as he woefully took a terrible job and hated every minute of it. Annie putting a brave face on. Annie putting herself through law school. Annie giving up her career to raise their kids because Jeff was a terrible parent. Annie growing unhappy: smiling less and drinking more. Annie widowed at a relatively early age when Jeff's body gives out on him. Annie selling her hair for beer money.

 _Okay, not very realistic_.  _More likely she points out that she wants a career and you hate yours, and you juggle priorities._

She was, after all, brilliant and driven and many other positive adjectives. And he would do whatever he could to avoid hurting her. And he loved her, and she loved him, and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that she didn't want him or Sadie or anyone making decisions on her behalf…

His phone was in his hand and he was calling her before he'd quite thought it through. Sadie hadn't demanded he keep secret her offer- _cum_ -threat. But would it hurt Annie, to know what her own mother had tried to do? Was she better off not knowing? He hung up quickly, while he thought about it. Annie was already convinced, despite a lack of evidence, that Sadie was somehow responsible for the LSAT fiasco…

Jeff jumped when the phone rang in his hand. "Hello?"

"Jeff! I was just talking to Pierce. He was at my mother's house, for some reason I choose to believe involved fixing a leaky faucet for her, or watering her plants, or something else non-sexual. Apparently she's been listening in on all my calls somehow, I don't know how you would even…"

Jeff pictured her — grinning, breathless, with that gleam in her eye she always got mid-caper. "I was just talking to her," he said slowly.

"Oh yeah?" In Jeff's mind's eye, the gleam grew sharper. "What'd she say? Something horrible and dishonest?"

He smiled. "Pretty much. The woman doing the audit is a friend of hers —"

"It's Lelia Gilman! My Aunt Lelia! I've told her about you, I'm sure —"

"Okay, you know that, great…"

"I just assumed that she knew all about," and here Annie's tone grew softer, but more conspiratorial than melancholy, "the pills and rehab and Mother disowning me." Then, more brightly, "But she didn't know! Mother lied to her! Isn't that great?"

Jeff struggled to follow the leap of logic. "Yes?" he guessed.

"I know!" He could practically hear her beaming with pride. "What did Mother say to you? Is that why you called?"

"Huh?" For a moment Jeff had forgotten entirely about his existential dilemma. "Yeah. Yes. She threatened to disbar me. Or make Lelia disbar me."

On the other end of the phone Annie snorted. "Well, that's not going to happen," she said confidently.

"She said some other things, too… about you and me…" Somehow, talking to Annie, they no longer felt quite as plausible or worrisome.

"She's wrong. You and me are a couple of superheroes, remember?"

Jeff scoffed. "You don't know what she said," he pointed out, but he was smiling.

"I am pretty sure I can guess exactly what she said, Jeff, and trust me, she's wrong. The man she's talking about isn't you. If you were him then you wouldn't have spent a year or more running from the idea of being with me, you'd have snatched me up and screwed me and cast me aside for a younger model."

"You're already… do you think I'm a pedophile?"

"No, you goof, I'm talking about… never mind. I love you. It's going to be fine."

"I love you, too," Jeff agreed. "And yeah, it's going to be fine."

* * *

**22 December 1998**

A cozy living room, professionally decorated, clean except for dog hair collecting in the corners. A perfunctory-looking Christmas tree, three feet tall and wrapped with ornamental netting, on a table with a half-dozen gifts. Lelia Gilman, scarred but still alive, lounging on the sofa with half an airedale terrier in her lap. Sadie Edison, sitting on the carpet, leaning against the sofa, with the other half of the airedale terrier licking her face. A mostly-empty bottle of wine, with two mostly-empty glasses, had been set on the coffee table.

"Yes, that's very nice, I love you too," Sadie told the dog. "You can stop licking me now…"

"Tiger!" Lelia clucked her tongue loudly. "Go to bed!"

The airedale scrambled up and obediently trotted to a dog bed in one corner.

"Good boy!" Lelia cooed.

"And you say you aren't fit to be a parent," Sadie said. "If I could get Annie to do that…"

"The problem is Annie doesn't like sausages enough. You'd need a really high-value treat."

"I like sausages!" A young girl in pajamas bounced into the room.

"Annie!" Sadie clucked her tongue in imitation of Lelia. "Go back to your bed!"

The only effect, unfortunately, was that Tiger the airedale decided Sadie must have been calling for him. He bounded back across the room and began butting his head against Sadie's, which she knew was a sign of affection but which was less fun for her than Tiger probably assumed it was.

Meanwhile Annie was still standing there. "I can't go back to my bed," she said reasonably. "My bed is at my house. This is Auntie's house."

Sadie died a little, inside. She could hardly blame Annie for wanting to be home — she missed home, too. But Richard needed to believe her threats were genuine, if they were going to have any effect, and if the threats didn't have any effect, then Annie would grow up in a broken home and in the long term this was better. This  _was_  better, Sadie reminded herself. "Well, then, use your head and interpret my words. Work with me, honey," Sadie begged her daughter.

"C'mon Tiger, go to bed, who wants some sausage for going to bed?" Lelia whispered at the dog, who cheerfully ignored her.

Annie bounced in place. "When can I sleep in my bed?"

Sadie smiled stiffly and pretended a dog wasn't assaulting her. "In a few days when we finish visiting Lelia and go home."

"Please, stay through Christmas," Lelia urged as she stood and began hauling Tiger bodily away from Sadie. "I've told Santa that you're going to be here, so if you go home then your gifts will go to the wrong house."

"Santa isn't real," Annie declared.

Lelia looked surprised. "He isn't? Well then, stay through your birthday. It's just a week away. And then we can party like it's 1999!"

* * *

Shirley checked the time. Two past five. The impromptu school assembly in the cafeteria had, at least, bolstered Shirley's Sandwiches's afternoon business. Whether anything more or better would come of it was as yet unknown. She'd done all she could; the rest was up to God and other people.

Shirley checked the time, again. Two and a half minutes past five. God's timing was perfect, but 'other people' were late.

Lelia Gilman swept in first. She made a beeline to Shirley when she saw her. "Shirley, hi. I was supposed to meet Jeff Winger here, have you seen him?"

"Not for a while," Shirley replied. "Can I get you some coffee or a sandwich?"

"A soy latte would be good, thanks…" Lelia looked around and seemed to notice the crowd for the first time. "Why are there so many people in here? Pep rally?"

"Oh, no. They're here for Jeff." Shirley beamed. "These are all additional character witnesses…" She spotted Vicki sitting pensively in a booth next to Neil. "And well-wishers."

"Huh. That's nice…"

"It is!" Shirley nodded eagerly. On the stage opposite them, the dean was arguing with Garrett and Todd. He caught Shirley's eye from across the room, and signaled to her.  _Two minutes to full-press honey-roast_.

Lelia didn't notice. "Although not really necessary…" She looked pained. "I think I have enough information to reach a conclusion."

"But…" Shirley paused to offer Lelia a cup of her best flavored coffee. "I'm sorry, the espresso machine isn't working and I don't have any soy milk. This is hazelnut."

"That's fine." Lelia smiled weakly. "Thanks."

Shirley tried to sound upbeat. "If you're going to find against Jeff, don't you owe it to him to hear all the testimony first?"

"Really, I just need enough to decide…" Lelia trailed off as a commotion at the cafeteria entrance on the far side of the room distracted her. "Okay, what is happening?" she asked Shirley.

"No idea." Shirley peered across the room. A troop of a dozen or so men and women in blue jumpsuits marched into the cafeteria as though in a parade drill. A drummer and a piper cut through the noise. Two more plumbers held up banners: the American flag and the Greendale Community College flag. The rest bore on their shoulders a large apparatus that appeared to have been constructed from PVC pipe. A litter, Shirley realized, seating two.

Troy Barnes, on a PVC throne, rode into the cafeteria to spontaneous applause. Seated at his right hand was was Abed Nadir, his Very Special Friend.

"Oh, that's Abed," Lelia squinted to make him out across the large room. "Are you sure this isn't a pep rally?" she asked Shirley.

"Less sure than I was," Shirley admitted.

Troy held up his hand until the cheering died down. "Friends, Greendaliens, fellow Human Beings… we come before you with a tale of treachery and deceit!" he shouted. Murmurs rippled through the room. Lelia and Shirley exchanged pensive looks and shrugs. Troy let the crowd react for a few beats, then raised his hand again, and they fell silent. "Habeas the corpus!"

Behind him, four more jumpsuit-clad workers led a bound man into the room. His wrists were tied behind his back and a length of rope between his ankles forced him to hobble.

"This isn't a ritual-sacrifice situation, is it?" Lelia asked Shirley nervously.

"I am the Truest Repairman, the Repairer of Men," intoned Troy. His voice sounded amplified, despite the lack of a microphone or speakers. "This one has invaded our annex under false pretenses, a crime punishable by —"

"Death!" "Death!" "Death!" chanted the people in jumpsuits.

"No!" Troy cried in a more normal tone of voice. "By kicking him out and threatening to call the cops on him! Come on, people!"

The workers all looked suitably abashed.

"Anyway," Troy said to the crowd, attempting to return to the dignity and verve of a few moments prior, "he says he's just a hired gun and he's willing to finger his employer in exchange for a plea deal. I've explained to him that we aren't the police and have no authority to arrest, try, or imprison him, but he's been pretty insistent. Can someone get him a mike?"

As the technicians scrambled to mike the prisoner, the set of doors closest to Lelia and Shirley flew open. Jeff Winger burst in, his suit rumpled and a manic gleam in his eye. "Lelia!" he cried, jogging up to her. "Listen, you and I really need to have a talk. It's about Annie, and her mother. It doesn't matter so much what you decide for me, as —"

"People of Greendale!" shouted Pierce from the stage. The dean tried to grab the microphone back, but Pierce elbowed him away. "You all know me as Pierce Hawthorne, leader of the Greendale Seven! Today I come to you with a harrowing tale of deceit and treachery!"

"Now where did  _he_  come from?" Lelia asked, exasperated.

"I already have a tale of deceit and treachery, Pierce!" Troy shouted. "Don't copy me!"

"Well don't  _you_  copy  _me!_ " Pierce shouted back.

"I got here first!"

"Only because someone carried you!"

Annie appeared from behind a curtain up on stage and, without hesitating, snatched the microphone out of Pierce's hands. "You guys," she told them both, "put a pin in it!" She turned and scanned the crowd. "Jeff? Jeff, are you here?"

She beamed when she saw him waving, and beckoned him to the stage.

Lelia followed close behind, reaching the stage at the same time as Jeff. Shirley watched them from the relative safety of the lunch counter — there seemed to be some kind of three-way spirited discussion going on between Lelia, Annie, and Jeff. They seemed to have things under control.

"Shirley!" Britta had run up to the counter in all the confusion. She sagged against it, panting. "I found 'em!" she wheezed, triumph mixed with breathlessness.

"Who?" Shirley saw no one with her.

"The…" Britta gestured over her shoulder, then turned and saw no one was there. "Hold on." She dashed back out of the cafeteria, returning a moment later with a board member on each arm. "Carl and Richie!"

"Hi," said Carl. "Shirley, right? I think we've met."

Shirley nodded.

"Sadie sent them to Orlando," Britta explained, as she caught her breath.

"She stole our passports so we couldn't get back," Richie added.

"No, man, I told you, you don't need a passport to leave Florida, it's cell phones that you can't have," Carl told him.

Up on stage, Annie had secured the microphone in its stand. "Okay, what we're going to do is, Lelia is going to sit here, and the rest of us… we'll just all take turns revealing our tales of deceit and treachery, and our heartwarming exhortations regarding the power of love and friendship, and… what do you have?" she asked the dean.

The microphone didn't pick up his words, only Annie's response.

"Really? Okay, okay. And our Dungeons & Dragons stories, apparently," she said into the mike. "We'll do the Dungeons & Dragons stories last. There might not be time."

* * *

**30 July 2005**

A cozy living room, professionally decorated, clean except for dog hair collecting in the corners. A half-empty bottle of tequila on the coffee table. Lelia Gilman (now a partner at Denver's third-largest firm), tired and more than a little drunk, sat with half an airedale terrier in her lap. Sadie Edison lay on the sofa, a cushion over her head.

"You'll get through this," Lelia said, trying to reassure her friend. "If anyone can, it's you. You're the strongest woman I know."

"How can I face him?" Sadie cried, not for the first time. Her voice was muffled slightly by the cushion. "How can I go back to him and say… it'll come out all 'oh, sure, it's fine, you can do whatever…' He'll just walk all over me. Again. You know I can't say no to him."

"You've got think about what's best for you," Lelia counseled. "And Annie…"

"Annie! God! See, we can't get a divorce. We can't! It would scar her for life."

"My parents are divorced," Lelia pointed out. "Your parents…"

"And look how we ended up," Sadie said with a bitter laugh. She moved the cushion off her head and sat up. "You remember, at our reception? I offered you Annie and you turned me down."

Lelia sighed ruefully. "If I'd known then what I know now…"

Sadie laughed again, less bitterly. "Stop it! I also said that if the marriage didn't work I'd blame you."

"Yeah, sorry about that. My bad. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you… I'm halfway serious," Lelia said, seeing Sadie's expression. "Just name it."

"Hmm." Sadie made a show of thinking it over.

"You don't have to pick something right now," Lelia assured her. "But if your marriage is ending I don't want you to hold that against me, so…"

Sadie covered her face in her hands. "Oh, God, my marriage is ending. It's okay," she said, sitting up. "I'm drunk enough that it's okay."

"An unlimited number of no-questions-asked favors. You need help hiding his body, or someone to take care of Annie while you're on the lam… hell, I'll shoot him myself, save you the trouble."

"Thanks. I'm lucky to have you." Sadie sighed wistfully. "Would you kill him for me?"

"Of course," Lelia said without hesitation.

"Would you…" Her brow furrowed in concentration. "Would you shoot yourself full of heroin and rob a bank and murder Richard and shout racial slurs in Mrs. Fitzgibbon's sixth-grade class, for me?"

Lelia chuckled. "God, how drunk are you?"

"Pretty drunk. Mostly I'm just tired."

"I would do all of those things for you," Lelia told Sadie. "Speaking as a woman of color, I'd prefer not to have to shout racial slurs at children, but if there was some reason you needed me to do it, I would."

"Thank you," Sadie said solemnly. "I find that a great comfort."

* * *

It was close to an hour later. Most of the student body had wandered off, but enough remained to justify using the microphone and sound system.

Neil had just finished relating the story of how Jeff Winger saved his life using the power of friendship (and shaming Pierce) when Lelia's phone alarm went off. She started awake in her ersatz throne, looking around guiltily, and cleared her throat loudly.

"Can I…?" She indicated the microphone, which Neil handed to her. "Thanks so much, Neil, and thank you everybody, but if I don't leave now I'm going to miss my dinner reservations, so, we'll have to wrap this up. I appreciate everyone taking the time to weigh in on the, uh, Jeff Winger question, and I'm sorry we couldn't get to everybody."

"Can I just say," Pierce said, raising his hand, "I don't come off very well in that story and I blame a short-lived addiction to prescription painkillers? From when Jeff broke both my legs."

Troy, sitting next to Pierce, elbowed him.

"Fine," Pierce said, "Troy broke my legs while Jeff watched."

"Duly noted, and thank you," Lelia told him. She turned to Jeff. "Jeff, I don't know what this place is, but I don't think it's a healthy environment long-term. It's good that you'll all be leaving it soon."

" 'It's good that you'll be leaving it soon' could be this school's motto," Jeff agreed.

"And again, this whole song-and-dance was not in the slightest necessary. After looking into the matter carefully, consulting with two of his three character references, and examining Jeff's academic record, I'm happy to say that there's ample evidence my friend Jeffrey Winger—"

"STOP!" screamed Sadie Parker-Edison, from the doorway.

* * *

**_19 April 2009_ **

The dining area of a moderately upscale brunch establishment. Satin tablecloths and mimosas. Lelia Gilman, older and wiser, took a sip of coffee as she eyed Sadie Parker-Edison, pale and exhausted, seated across from her.

"I was hoping Annie would be joining us," she said after a silence. "I know she's busy, senior year and all, but I haven't seen her in months."

Sadie shook her head. "No. No, that's… this is about her, actually, why I wanted to see you." She stared at the tablecloth a moment. "Ann is… Ann left."

Lelia sat bolt upright in her seat. "Left? What do you mean, left?"

Sadie hesitated before she answered. "We had a fight. She called me heartless and blamed me for her father leaving… and for other things."

"Other things?" prompted Lelia.

Sadie shook her head. "It's not worth going into. Really." She searched through her purse and retrieved a small pillbox.

Lelia watched Sadie take a pill. The last several years had been hard on Sadie, she knew, and medication was a vital tool, and Sadie had two different doctors she saw regularly and still Lelia worried.

"Her grades are such that she can just skip finals completely and still graduate," Sadie said, after several sips of water. "She's decided to move out to the East Coast for college after all."

Lelia leaned forward. "Harvard, then? She said —"

"That was months ago," Sadie snapped, cutting Lelia off. "It's not Harvard."

"Where, then? I —"

"I'm not going to tell you. I mean, I can't," she amended. "I don't know myself. She said not to contact her. She cancelled her phone, said she'd call if she ever…" Sadie was blinking back tears.

Lelia was baffled; this simply didn't parse. "There's got to be… her email, maybe?"

Sadie shook her head. "I tried to log in to her email — I have her passwords, you know — but she deleted the account."

 _You could have just emailed her, you didn't have to log in as her_ , Lelia thought, but there didn't seem to be much point in voicing that notion. Instead she tried to find solutions. "We'll find her. There must be someone — maybe someone at the high school? I can talk to —"

"No!" Sadie sounded panicky. "No, that would just… don't go looking for her. After the things we said to one another, I don't know if I can bear it. Not right now."

Lelia grimaced. "Annie and I have always…" She struggled to find a way to say it that wouldn't set Sadie off; she concealed poorly her envy of Lelia's relationship with her daughter. It wasn't Sadie's fault, really, Lelia thought. Sadie made Annie eat her vegetables, while Lelia bought her candy.

Sadie shook her head firmly. "I'll handle her. I need you to stay out of it." She leaned forward. "You once promised to do heroin and rob a bank for me, if I asked."

"I…" Lelia sighed. "Of course. You know I'm the captain of Team Mercedes. If you really think it's the best way to deal with her…"

"Yes. No. Just… I'm her mother," Sadie declared. "I'm her mother… or I was."

"You'll always be her mother," Lelia assured her.

* * *

"Hello, dear," Lelia said mildly.

"I demand you stop these proceedings!"

"Demand? You  _demand_?" Lelia repeated skeptically. "Maybe if you were here an hour ago, but… some of these people have told stories about you that are very disturbing. And… and Annie's here!  _Annie's_  here. Annie's  _here."_  Lelia threw up her hands in dismay.

Sadie twitched. "Did I lie to you? Yes. But it was for a good reason. Let me explain."

"Oh, please do. I'd love to hear it."

"But first, there's something more important than that. Do you remember the spring of 1988 and your oh-so-generous gesture? Do you remember my wedding reception, and that night in the hospital?" Sadie pointed accusingly at Lelia. "I warned you."

"What?" Lelia seemed baffled, but then lit up with recognition. She blanched slightly.

"And on July 30th, 2005," Sadie continued, "we agreed to certain terms. You owe me."

Lelia shook her head. "You know I love you, but you've never…"

"It's never been this important before. You owe me, and I'm calling it in."

"It was more than twenty years ago, Sadie, you  _can't_  be serious…" Lelia twisted in her seat. "And I just found out Annie's been here, in town, this whole time — this whole time!"

"Abandon me the way everyone else has, if you must… family, friends, my own child…" Sadie glared at Annie. "But before you go, either honor your debt or know that you broke your promise."

Lelia chuckled nervously. "He's not Richard," she said. "You can't blame him for —"

"I can do whatever I want." Sadie glanced around the cafeteria. "You're all lucky I don't burn this place down. Not literally burn," she added testily, "don't be stupid. Shutter Greendale. Sell the assets, fire the staff, and then prop the doors open and let nature take its course, because this place is an abscess. But I'm generous. You can have the board back. You can keep this idiot house full of idiots." She was speaking directly to Jeff now, stomping slowly across the cafeteria towards the stage. "But there's one thing I can take from you, even if it costs me everything I have left. I'm calling in that marker, Lelia." Her eyes never left Jeff's. "This is important to me. This is more important than anything."

Annie caught Lelia's eye. Spring of 1988 would have been the end of Sadie and Lelia's junior year at Colorado College.  _What happened?_  she mouthed.

Lelia shook her head slightly and turned away from Annie. "I know these last few years… really, ever since Richard left," she paused to swallow. "I know it's been hard. I don't pretend to understand why you disowned Annie and lied to me, but this… Sadie, I don't think you've thought this through."

Sadie's gaze was steady. "May first. Our room in Montgomery House."

"If you make me do this, then we aren't friends any longer, and I don't want that."

" _Et tu_ , Lelia?" Sadie snapped. "June third! Canongate Country Club!"

Lelia slouched in her seat and said nothing. Sadie was still glaring at Jeff, who stared back at her.

Britta broke the silence. "You know what I think would be the best way to deal with this? If we all went around, one by one, and talked a little bit about what we're feeling right now —"

"You manage to be the worst therapist I've ever met," Sadie told her, "and I have met a statistically significant number of therapists."

Britta fell silent.

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I'm so sorry," Lelia said softly. "I'd be happy to hire you as a paralegal or a consultant…"

"You're going to just — what?" Annie sputtered. "You can't!"

"I'm sorry," Lelia said softly. "I can't refuse her this. I hope you can forgive me."

"Don't blame Lelia. If you must blame someone, blame me. I hope one day you'll understand this," Sadie told Annie. "And you'll recognize that I was right to do it."

Annie tried one last time to reason with her. "I know that when my father left, it hurt you, but.."

"You know?" Sadie circled slowly around Annie. "You think you understand the world. You think you know who you can trust, and who's good and who's bad. You have an arrogant confidence that you won't even recognize in yourself until it's gone. That man will hurt you in ways you don't think it's possible to be hurt. He'll break parts of you that you didn't realize existed, much less could be broken. Hate me if you must but I  _will_  spare you that pain."

"Listen to me, Mother, when I say that  _I am not you_  and  _Jeff is not him_!" Annie spun around, pointing an accusing finger at the crowd. "And don't any of you say anything about Electra, all right?"

"The Spider-Man villain?" Troy whispered to Britta. She opened her mouth to respond, but Troy scoffed. "Wait, why am I asking you…" He shifted to Abed, on his other side. "The Spider-Man villain?"

"Describing father-daughter relationships is always a real minefield," Abed whispered back. "Due to the sexualization of younger women in our culture."

Troy thought about this for a moment. "Gross."

On the stage Annie was fuming. "I've made my choice. What good does it do you to ruin him? You have to just spitefully break what's mine?"

"You're lying to yourself. He isn't yours," Sadie growled. She glanced at Jeff. "And he at least knows I'm right. There's nothing he can offer you. Your life is worse for having him in it. All I can do is make sure that fact eats at him, day by day, until finally he leaves you before he does any more damage."

"And then I'll be doubly miserable," Annie said. "Is that what you want?"

Sadie softened, infinitesimally. "You think it'll be the end of the world to lose him, but life goes on. You'll recover stronger than before. There are better options than this… Even if he were the best man in this hellhole, there's a whole world out there."

"I'm here because of you!" snapped Annie. "You sent me here! No, you sent me to live under a bridge and steal and… eugh!" She shuddered. "Because if I couldn't be your perfect porcelain doll then you didn't want me at all! You buried me like a shameful secret."

"What do you want, an apology? What's the point? What's done is done." Sadie's voice was ice. "Go off with Lelia if you want — you always liked her better anyway. Never speak to me again, if it makes you feel better. But I'm saving you from the worst mistake you'd ever make."

In the ensuing silence, Jeff spoke up. "If this is what it takes for you to leave her alone, and never hurt her again, then I'll take this hit."

Sadie turned to Jeff. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? This is all a victory for you, any way you slice it. I won't give you the satisfaction! I won't!" Her voice hit a familiar register that made Jeff wince.

"Mother, please," Annie pleaded. "Listen to yourself… We don't have to do this, like this."

Sadie shook her head, saying nothing to her daughter. "May first," she told Lelia.

"Enough!" Lelia snapped. "You remember a minute ago when I pointed out that you lied to me for close to five years?"

Sadie stared at her.

"After the day I've had, you come in, snorting and ready to fight, and you crow 'May first' at me like —" Lelia stopped. "You've changed."

Sadie said nothing.

"I'm sorry Jeff," Lelia said without breaking eye contact with Sadie. "Pending approval by the rest of the subcommittee, which let's be honest is a rubber stamp, the Colorado State Bar rescinds its previous provisional suspension and will be initiating disbarment. You'll get the paperwork as soon as I can send it out." She sighed. "Now please leave. I don't want to see you right now," Lelia told Sadie.

"Can I just say," Sadie began.

"No, you can't," Lelia said shortly. "Any further communication between us can be done by Buffy." Lelia glanced at Annie. "Buffy's her other lawyer. Her only lawyer, now."

Sadie drew herself up, and turned to Annie. "You'll thank me some day."

Annie's eyes narrowed. "I won't. I don't know what funhouse-mirror version of the world you see, where this —  _this!_  — is the best way to act. Where you know better than I do, this man I've known for years and you've met him, what, twice?"

"Three times," Sadie said quietly.

"Where you know better than me what's best for myself, and where you know better than Aunt Lelia. Better than both of us combined. You know better than everyone! Because you don't make mistakes? You're never wrong?"

Sadie took a step backward. "Not about this," she insisted.

"You lied to me, you lied to her so many times, you bugged my phone… you committed fraud against the Law School Admission Council to submarine me! That's got to be a felony!"

"Actually lying to people is not, strictly speaking, against the law in most cases," Jeff said. "I may be disbarred, but I'm pretty well-versed in that."

"It was all for your own good," Sadie said, her voice unsteady.

"All of it? All of it was for my own good? None of it was to make you feel better? None of it was to make sure that if I wasn't happy on your terms, I couldn't be happy?"

"I'm sorry you can't see — see — see… I'm sorry!" Sadie shouted, her voice breaking at last. She wrenched her gaze away from Annie and buried her face in her hands, standing alone at the bottom of the stage. Tears fell from her cheeks and splashed onto the cafeteria's linoleum floor. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think that I enjoyed changing the locks and cancelling your cell phone and… and all of that? Do you think I haven't missed you? But you wouldn't listen to me then, and you won't listen to me now, and if you won't listen to me then all I have is force!"

"You could just ignore her," Jeff murmured to Lelia. "You have this whole complicated thing going on, but… even so."

Lelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I can't," she muttered. "It breaks my heart, but I can't. It would be like cutting off my arm."

Meanwhile Annie was still shouting at her mother. "I won't listen to you?  _I_  won't listen to  _you_? When have you ever,  _ever_  listened to me? Or anyone? All these people are here on his behalf!" She made a sweeping gesture that included the whole room. "I am surrounded, daily, by people who love me and who know me much, much better than you do. I'm not who I used to be! And he isn't Richard Edison!"

Sadie's breath was ragged. "You think you know him, but what you love is a fantasy!"

"He would take a bullet for me, Mother!" Annie shouted.

Sadie tried to laugh contemptuously but her throat kept closing. "You… you may think that…"

"I  _know_." Annie's eyes were bright and fierce. "This morning, while you were springing whatever this stupid trap is, he was ducking between me and a crazed gunman!"

"Really?" Lelia's eyes widened. She turned to Jeff. "Really?" she asked him.

Embarrassed, Jeff nodded.

Lelia frowned. She looked Abed's way, scanning his face for confirmation.

Abed nodded slightly.

"Wow," Lelia said. "Good on you, Jeff."

"It turned out it was actually a really loud cap gun," Jeff admitted, "but in the heat of the moment, yeah, I was pretty much a hero."

"Sadie," Lelia called, "why don't you sit down and we have a conversation like we're people? Because otherwise you leave and we're not friends, and I'd rather we not do that."

Sadie stood alone in the open space at the center of the cafeteria, her arms wrapped tightly about her. She looked miserably at Annie, at Lelia, back to Annie…

"He practically took a bullet for her, apparently," Lelia pointed out. "Maybe the man who would have unthinkingly saved your daughter's life at the cost of his own, maybe he should get to be a lawyer? Let's not be hasty."

"Be reasonable, Mother," Annie urged.

"Fine!" Sadie drew herself up to her full height, and took a long, deep breath. "Fine. Do whatever you want," she said. "Go nuts. Marry him, and suffer, and when you're ready to apologize... I'll be waiting." There was a long moment of silence, and then Sadie Parker-Edison spun about and stomped out of the cafeteria.

As soon as she was gone Annie collapsed against Jeff and let out a long ragged sigh. Britta, Troy, Abed, Pierce, Shirley, and Lelia Gilman all rushed to her side.

"Annie, I'm sorry this happened like this, but… it's going to be okay," Lelia told her.

Annie pulled partway out of Jeff's arms and turned to Lelia. "Okay," she said simply.

"Okay?" Lelia repeated, disbelieving.

"I trust you. If I can't trust you, I'd… I'd go kind of crazy. If you say that it's going to be okay, then I believe you." Annie pulled Lelia close to her, and suddenly she was at the nexus of a group hug, with the study group and even the dean joining in.

"You get used to it," Jeff told her from near the center.

"Well, on the plus side, I'm pretty sure I can convince the disciplinary committee to rethink disbarment," Lelia said. "By which I mean I won't mention this whole sad affair to anyone… But I'm going to work this out with your mother," she told Annie. "I'm going to make this right."

Annie tightened the group embrace, feeling Jeff on one side of her and Lelia on the other. "It's already all right."

* * *

END ACT TWO


	18. Endgames II: Queen and Queen Act 3

ENDGAMES II: QUEEN AND QUEEN

ACT THREE

* * *

Weeks later, at the very waning of the year, Annie celebrated her twenty-second birthday with a party, as was traditional. Though she'd been living more at Jeff's apartment than her own, she staged the party at the apartment she shared with Troy and Abed, if for no other reason than to avoid sending the wrong message to Doreen.

Jeff's mother spent most of the party ensconced on the sofa, reminiscing about Jeff's childhood with Lelia Gilman, or watching Shirley's kids play.

"So you're Annie's aunt?" Doreen asked Lelia, at one point.

Lelia nodded.

"Do you mind if I ask…?"

"We're not blood relatives," Lelia said. "I'm… I used to be very close with her mother."

"Ah." Doreen nodded. "I don't mean to be rude, but I did wonder. I know she's Jewish, and I know Israel is, um, right there in the Middle East…"

Lelia nodded. "No offense taken."

"So, where are you from?"

"Boulder, originally…"

"I don't mean to be rude," Doreen repeated.

"It's fine, it's fine. I know what you mean. My mother emigrated from Isfahan, in Iran… have you seen the movie  _Persepolis_?"

"The cartoon?" Doreen lit up. "Oh, yes! That was a very good movie! Was it like that?"

Lelia shook her head ruefully. "I'm told it was nothing like that. She came here before I was born, in the '60s."

"Oh." Doreen took a nervous sip of wine.

Lelia smiled. " _Persepolis_  was a good movie, though, wasn't it?"

Doreen nodded. "I used to take Jeff to all the Disney cartoon movies," she said, as though confiding a secret. "Everything from  _Oliver and Company_  to… I think the last one was  _Aladdin_ , and then he declared himself too old for them."

"I remember taking Annie to see  _Mulan_ ," Lelia said wistfully. "And  _Tarzan_ … and the second  _Fantasia_  movie."

" _Fantasia 2000_! I made Jeff take me to that one." Doreen smiled at the memory.

* * *

"Well if it isn't Mister Edison," Britta said, sitting down next to Jeff.

"Please. Mister Edison is by all accounts a loathsome human being," Jeff said.

"Mister Winger?" she offered.

"And that just sounds like my father. Another awful human being."

"I'm seeing a pattern here." Britta nodded thoughtfully. "You know who else was called Mister? Adolf Hitler."

"He was called the Führer."

"That's just German for Mister."

"No, 'Herr' is German for Mister."

"Hair is German fur-mister?" Britta repeated. "Now you're just saying nonsense words."

"I used to think you were smart," grumbled Jeff.

"Hey, I'm very smart!" Britta protested. "Ask anyone at the AC Repair Annex."

They were companionably quiet for a few moments.

"You know what's weird?" Britta asked. "I'm in a relationship with Troy and you're in a relationship with Annie."

"Mmm-hmmm." Jeff nodded.

"We're both more mature than we used to be. And our partners are younger than we are… there's some irony there." Britta cocked her head. "I'm not expressing it very well, but it's there."

"Well, as you know Annie is remarkable along every measurable axis," Jeff said.

"Sure, whatever. But the reason your relationship works is because you're both kind of childish," Britta said. "Me and Troy, though, we have an adult relationship."

"The last time I saw you and Troy together before this was the big Christmas-New-Year's-Kwanza-Heat-Pump-Appreciation-Week Custodial Ball," Jeff countered. "You bobbed for apples. There's nothing remotely adult about that."

Britta rolled her eyes. "Please, we're way more mature than you. Your relationship is all candyfloss and kissing and opera-level angst!"

"Your relationship is apparently based on mead! We're more mature!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

* * *

Abed was looking pensive, so Troy sauntered his way. "What up, dude?" he asked, generously handing Abed one of his two slices of birthday cake.

"I'm getting that endgame vibe again," Abed announced. "Cheery epilogue. The drama of the story over, with maybe a hint of a possible but unpromised sequel. Like the blue Force ghosts in the Ewok village at the end of  _the Return of the Jedi_."

"My third-favorite  _Star Wars_  movie," Troy said agreeably.

Abed frowned. "Time is slipping through our fingers. There's just one semester after this, and who knows what happens then? Will we look back on this time and regret the almost total lack of our traditional Troy-Abed hijinks?"

"What are you talking about, man?" Troy asked, puzzled.

"You've been so busy with Britta –"

"We had that whole Halloween diamond heist," Troy pointed out. "And the big pie-eating contest at midterms."

"Even so –"

"On Columbus Day we did an entire three-act romcom, man, just you and me and Garret working the camera!"

"None of those count," Abed said. "They weren't central to the plot of the semester. This semester has revolved around Jeff and Annie. All our stunts could just be on the cutting room floor, destined for the deleted scenes roll on the DVD set."

"Nah, man! Become the ruling body, dude! Don't just passively accept the idea that you're stuck playing a supporting role in your own life! Look at me," Troy slapped his chest. "I've fully embraced my role as the Super-Jesus of the Air Conditioning Repair School. And that's as real as it gets."

Abed stared at Troy with an intensity that even Troy found a little unsettling. "You do know the AC Repair Annex is just a Dreamatorium simulation, right? It doesn't exist outside the refrigerator box under my bed." He pointed at the cardboard Dreamatorium-closet, half-hidden by hung blankets.

Troy laughed, then did a double take. His eyes widened. "Really?" he whispered.

Abed waited a beat. "No," he admitted. "I'm just messing with you."

"How can I be sure?!" Troy felt his pockets and found the ceremonial Air Conditioning Repair School Seal of Office, which was far too heavy and jewel-encrusted to be a mere prop. Probably. "Are these even real emeralds?"

* * *

Annie beamed as she handed Pierce a slice of cake. "Enjoy!"

"Thank you, Annie," he said. "See, it's little things like this that are the reason you're my favorite. Way more than Britta."

"I'm literally standing right here," asserted Britta.

"Pierce!" chided Annie.

"I was being funny! Humor is a great surcease," Pierce declared.

Annie's brow wrinkled. "I'm almost positive you're using that word wrong."

"Well, irregardless," said Pierce, giving up, "happy birthday."

"Thanks!"

"And I have good news." He paused to take a bite of birthday cake.

"You're dying of brain cancer?" asked Britta hopefully.

Pierce looked stung. "What? No! That's awful, how could you even…"

"A little over the top, Britta," agreed Annie.

"I was being funny! Wasn't that a surcease?"

"To be funny, you have to be funny," Pierce told her.

"What's the good news, Pierce?" Annie asked, more to head off further argument than anything else.

"Mercedes had talked me out of it, but she isn't returning my calls so screw it." Pierce scowled at the reference to Sadie, despite the fact that he was the one who made it. "I called the dean of admissions over at DU Law, and long story short, they'll look at your LSATs if you take the test at the next available date."

"Aw!" Annie cooed. "You didn't have to… thanks, Pierce."

"I know you don't want special treatment just because you're my favorite," Pierce said, "but after all the rigamarole that Mercedes did to you…"

"I'd processed and accepted that, yes."

"You still have to get in on your own merits," Pierce said.

Annie nodded. "Right."

"It's not at all a sure thing. Except of course I'm confident you can do it, given your history of accomplishments."

"Thanks."

* * *

Abed cornered Shirley in the kitchen. "You're familiar with  _the Return of the Jedi_ ," he said.

"You know," mused Shirley, "I think I do more cooking in this kitchen than you do."

"Specifically the sequence where Luke Skywalker confronts Darth Vader," Abed continued.

"I wash the dishes, I put them up, and they're all in exactly the same place when I come back, even if it's two months later." Shirley eyed a particular bowl. "Except this bowl. Is this the bowl you use to make buttered noodles?"

Abed nodded. "Initially I thought the triptych of Annie, her mother, and Lelia Gilman mapped to a magical princess, an evil queen, and a fairy godmother."

"Is Andre watching the kids?" Shirley craned her neck to see around Abed. Then she sighed. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"But in fact, I think it's much more the case that Annie is Luke Skywalker and her mother is Darth Vader. You have the controlling parent, the rebellious child, they both use the same tool – the Force, in this case, is emotional manipulation and control – but in the end good triumphs because evil cannot bear itself. When you come right down to it, Sadie Parker-Edison is just Annie plus extra bitterness and minus all compassion and respect for others' abilities to make their own decisions."

Shirley folded her arms. "I see where you're going but I feel like you're kind of overstating it."

"Just as Luke Skywalker defeated Darth Vader by refusing to surrender to hate, so too did Annie eventually triumph over Sadie Parker-Edison by not trying to control every aspect of everything around her."

"Hmm." Shirley thought it over. "Maybe. I guess I can see it… but what about Lelia?"

"Lelia Gilman is the blue Force ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi," Abed declared. "She advises, she offers moral support, she has a unique perspective on the essential humanity of the villain, but she's powerless to act directly."

* * *

Towards the end of the evening, during the twenty minutes it took Shirley and Andre to get all of their children and all of their children's coats in one place, Pierce strolled down to street level without anyone noticing. "I thought about bringing you some birthday cake," he said to the dark figure lurking in a nearby alley, "but I only give cake to people I like."

Sadie Parker-Edison, her small body lost in a huge parka, nodded. It was a maneuver that, for Pierce to be able to see it, required bending at the waist. "I suppose I deserve that. Thank you for answering my text message, Pierce."

"It's almost New Year's," Pierce said. "Never carry a grudge or a debt into the new year, that's what my father used to say. Not that he practiced what he preached, oh no…"

Sadie cleared her throat. "I take it my daughter is as well as can be expected?"

"Eh? Yes, yes," Pierce said. "Annie's going to be fine. She's got a lot of people who love her."

"I suppose Lelia's up there." Sadie stared longingly at the building.

"Yeah," Pierce said, nodding. "She brought Annie a bottle of blue label whisky, said it was a belated 21st birthday present."

Sadie sighed, and said nothing.

"I went ahead and made that call, by the way," Pierce said after a silence. "To the law school."

"That's fine," Sadie said, to Pierce's surprise. "It doesn't matter. I want her to do well and be happy, after all. If law school could really make her happy… if that man can actually treat her right, well. That's all I've ever wanted for her." She smiled wanly. "That and straight teeth. I managed that one, at least."

"Uh, yeah," he said, because he felt like he should say something.

"I'm sorry I blocked your number and deleted all your messages unread," Sadie told Pierce. "I tend to shut people out when I'm upset. I was upset."

"I guessed that when you ran sobbing from the cafeteria."

"Yes, well. I've unblocked you," she added.

"Ah. That's a good start," Pierce replied, unsure as to how far down this road he wanted to go.

"I'm also sorry about all those felonies I committed."

"Don't worry," he assured her, "no one seemed particularly into the idea of prosecuting you. Annie least of all."

"Very generous of her," Sadie said. "That's all Lelia, I'm sure. I could never be so generous."

"Mmm," grunted Pierce. "Well, great. I should get back upstairs."

"Of course." Sadie lifted her arms in what it took Pierce a moment to recognize as opening them for a hug – it was a  _very_  large and heavy parka.

Against his better judgement, Pierce leaned down and gave her a quick embrace. "Happy New Year," he said.

"Happy New Year," she replied as she let him go. "And if, in the new year, you find yourself seeking a dinner companion who appreciates wine and… and so on… I hope you'll at least consider calling me."

"We'll see," said Pierce, although he already knew he would.

* * *

It wasn't until hours later that Jeff and Annie got back to his apartment: they stayed, cleaning up, until everyone else had left, and not everyone had small children or cats to feed/bathe/put to bed. Lelia Gilman in particular had to be levered out of the apartment with a crowbar. By the time Jeff and Annie were finally done for the day it was after midnight.

Annie yawned as they stumbled into his living room. "That was really nice," she said, to herself as much as to Jeff. "But it's good to be home."

"Mmm-hmm." Behind her, Jeff nodded in agreement as he removed his coat. Then he and Annie both froze, realizing what she'd just said.

"Not that this is my home," Annie said slowly. She winced as she slowly turned. "I mean, this is your…" Annie sighed in relief when she saw his grin. "You know what I meant!" she said, matching his grin.

"Oh, I think I know exactly what you meant," he said smugly, as he began peeling off her coat, too.

"I just meant… I've been sleeping here more often than not… and…" Annie trailed off; his hands on her were very distracting. "Jeff!"

"You've cleaned the bathroom here more in the last month than I did in six months before that," Jeff observed. "You keep bringing over overnight bags and emptying them here like you think I won't notice."

"You said I could have a drawer!" she protested.

He continued, "I know there's a whole set of brushes and sponges and disinfectants under the sink that didn't used to be there, and I can't remember the last time I made dinner for one. You've gotten mail here."

"It was one Christmas card! And it was from Abed!" She pulled him into the bedroom, laughing. "You goof!"

"I think I know what you mean, but how can we be sure?" He hugged her close to him. "So you want to do this? Can you face the scandal?"

"Well, it is almost 2013. Time for new beginnings. And I don't know how you've managed to survive this long without me…"

"I don't either," Jeff said softly, with an intensity that surprised her. Then, lighter, "Do I need to ask you, and phrase it just right?"

"No!" She light swatted his chest. "I'm actually pretty confident we're on the same page."

Jeff cleared his throat. "Annie Edison," he said formally, "would you do me the honor of becoming my…" He coughed suddenly. "You wanna move in with me?"

She laughed. "What was that? I thought you were supposed to be eloquent."

"I was going to say, become my live-in maid and sexual plaything," Jeff said, bracing himself as she swatted at him a third time. "Didn't think I could pull it off, though."

Her eyes gleamed in the dark. "Yeah, that was a smart impulse… tell you what, _you_  can be  _my_ live-in sexual plaything and cook, and we'll take turns with cleaning and laundry."

"Deal," Jeff said promptly. "Assuming by taking turns you mean you doing it most of the time."

"That was kind of implied," Annie admitted.

They lay together, quietly, for a few heartbeats, while it sank in.

"So," Annie broke the silence. "We're going to do this?"

"I think so." Jeff sounded quietly amazed. "Unless you want to find a bigger place. This is technically only a three-quarters-bathroom, three-quarters-bedroom apartment."

"Three-quarters bedroom?" She raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, we could get somewhere with a porch, and airedale terriers… I'll make a list."

"I don't think many apartments come equipped with airedale terriers, plural."

"Spoken like a man who hasn't checked the real estate listings… you know, Abed predicted this."

"He predicted that at…" Jeff checked the time. "12:14 in the AM on New Year's Eve you'd spring  _multiple airedale terriers_  on me?"

Annie snuggled into Jeff's side, feeling his arm wrapped around her. "You can think that if you want… No, he said I'd move in with you and that Britta would move in with him and Troy and then she'll move to Dallas when they break up…"

Jeff chuckled. "Dallas?"

Annie nodded, though she knew he couldn't see. "Abed thinks Dallas is going to become America's cultural center when the big puppetry craze of the 2020s really takes off there. He also thinks Troy and Britta are going to break up in about a decade, so, that checks out. And Troy is going to invent dance-pants in 2019. Abed thinks a lot of things, is my point." Annie lifted her head to look Jeff in the eye. "I told him it wasn't going to happen any time soon, but here we are. You think…?"

"Absolutely," Jeff reassured her. "We are  _killing_  this."

* * *

THE END


End file.
